


Murder Is a Lot Quicker

by Writingwife83



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Feelings, Humor, Molly isn't perfect either, News flash- marriage isn't perfect, Romance, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, There's still plenty of happiness and fun, marriage problems, married sherlolly, seriously don't be scared by the marriage tags, these two idiots, they're not fighting and sad all the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8423491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: Jumping quickly and passionately into marriage may sound romantic, but Sherlock and Molly are both about to learn that making a life together is far less about romance that it seemed. Along the way, they'll both need plenty of lessons in selfless love, sacrifice, communication...and of course a sense of humor!





	1. Days Married- 26

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amalia Kensington (amaliak01)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaliak01/gifts).



> I started this at least a couple months ago but hadn't originally planned to post it. But I've been pretty happy with how it came out so far and thought it would be nice to share. :) This was originally an idea/prompt of Lexie's, that the Sherlolly marriage ends up actually being a huge challenge for both of them and it's not all lovely and sweet and fun. Basically, taking a more realistic look at what it would be like if the two of them tried to function as husband and wife. Which is simply realistic for marriage in general! 13 years in, I can confirm that it's not all romance, people, lol! XD  
> But no worries, I'll make sure things work out in the end...and there will certainly be fun along the way. ;)

Molly’s eyes actually ached with fatigue. She’d rarely been so tired and gotten such minimal sleep. She checked her mobile again while getting out a mug for coffee…extra strong coffee. Still no messages, though she supposed that wasn’t surprising.

This was certainly one of those things that she’d unconsciously warned herself about prior to the walk down the aisle, which was only a proverbial walk since it was actually just signing documents at the courthouse. She knew there would be difficult things to live with. Those little maddening things about Sherlock Holmes that made her simply shrug in her dealings with him at Bart's…weren’t so easy to shrug off anymore.

She glanced at the time while pouring the coffee when it was done. This now made it a full twenty hours that she’d not heard one word from the man. It was the first night that he hadn’t come home at all since they’d been married. He had stayed out late, not actually come to bed, and not slept all night long. But there just hadn’t been zero presence at Baker Street all night since she had taken up residence there. Granted, she was glad he’d got a case. She didn’t want him to be without work forever. At the point when they’d got married, it had been almost four weeks since any interesting things had come his way. And even after the wedding, the cases had been sporadic and less than thrilling.

Toby wound around her legs till she finally left her mental fog just enough to put some food in his empty bowl.

“God, I’m such an idiot,” she murmured to herself as she stood and straightened the cotton tee shirt around her thighs which actually belonged to Sherlock.

How had it seemed like such a good idea to agree to that Wednesday afternoon wedding after one measly, albeit incredibly hot, snogging session in Bart’s lab? Not only was the proposal whirlwind, it wasn’t even truly romantic. Up till then, she thought Fitswilliam Darcy held the heavyweight championship title for insultingly mediocre proposals. Well, he’d clearly been beaten now...

_“You’ve just as little time and patience as I do for some ridiculous dating ritual,” he said, speaking rapidly as he brushed hair from her face which had been pulled from her ponytail accidentally amidst his kisses. “Best to just be done with the whole thing! You’ve always been in love with me and I’ve certainly always harbored a repressed sort of love for you. We are two intelligent and consenting adults who are well aware of what we do and don’t want, and I see no reason why we shouldn’t just take what we want. Think of all the irritation we’ll avoid! Then we can simply get on with our lives!”_

“We can simply get on with our lives,” Molly repeated to herself, shaking her head. Good grief, how many women heard those words before gleefully and foolishly agreeing, “ok, I will marry you!”

She certainly didn’t feel like an intelligent adult anymore. The glow had fast faded and now she felt no better than an irresponsible child! She’d rushed ahead on a cloud of hormones and daydreams and everyone knows that sort of silliness only lasts so long. She absolutely knew it, but had somehow chosen to ignore that sort of logic in the moment. She could swear her lips still tingled from his very first kisses as she signed her name in that courthouse.

And goodness knows she wasn’t hit with harsh reality instantly. No, it took at least a couple weeks before she started to realize the magnitude of what they’d done. At first, she lived with the newly married version of Sherlock who had really wanted to get married. When Sherlock’s attention is fixed on something and he’s truly fascinated, the object of his attention could never want for anything. And she didn’t. During that classic “honeymoon phase” Molly couldn’t possibly have taken the time to notice all the million little ways that they were in over their heads. But once she did, it was all a bit overwhelmingly obvious.

The door flung open, making her jump. Sherlock tromped in, tossing his coat on the sofa and kicking his shoes off as he gradually made his way into the kitchen. He glanced at her on his way.

“Ah good, I see you made coffee. And based on the aroma, it’s good and strong!”

There was silence as Molly stood there with lips pressed tightly together, arms crossed over her middle, and eyes on him as he poured the hot liquid and added his usual allotment of sugar. He didn’t look over at her as he began speaking casually again.

“I’d kiss you good morning, but I imagine you’d much prefer if I shower and brush my teeth first, seeing as I haven’t been able to wash up since this time yesterday.”

She continued staring at him, willing him to look at her so he would realize that she was more than a little put out. But to no avail. Finally she sighed and let her arms drop to her sides while making her way back toward the bedroom.

“Right well I’ve got to run and get ready for work so I suppose I won’t see you till later.”

"Mm, I assumed you might actually be gone by now. Running late?” He glanced at her now with a quirked brow.

Molly clenched her jaw tightly and knew that since she actually was horribly late, she therefore didn’t have time to explain the obvious to him about why it was mostly his fault.

"Yep, running late," she bit back quickly. "So I'll see you later?"

“Mm.”

“I mean, later when I get back from work,” she specified. “Meaning, you’ll be here when I’m back around 5?”

“I would imagine so.” He sipped his coffee lazily. “But I’m sure you’ll be astute enough to notice if I’m not.”

Molly rolled her eyes till she was almost sure they were going to be stuck like that. She marched into the bedroom, shut the door with just a bit more force than usual, and proceeded to ready herself for work.

Her anger only mounted when she opened her drawer to reveal some strange and unsolicited sort of organization method that had been forced upon her poor collection of socks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone know exactly where I picked the title of this fic is from? Hint hint..."The Sign of Three" hehe! XD  
> More chapters to come soon. ;)


	2. Days Married- 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexie and I both enjoyed the idea of Sherlock being a bit stubborn in admitting that there's actual issues with the function of their relationship and that he's still haughtily believing that they're better at this whole marriage thing than others around them lol. Of course, that doesn't stop him from getting frustrated from time to time...

Sherlock walked bleary eyed down the hall from the bedroom. His client would be here in less than an hour and surely John would be here even sooner. He knew better now than to be in a sheet when that happened. Yes, some things had changed since he’d become a married man.

The idea was still a bit confounding. Yes, it had been his idea. But the reality of it was admittedly quite a bit different than he had anticipated…

Not to say he wasn’t making things work though! He was sure that things were ultimately perfectly fine. A bit of adjusting and settling was all that was needed for them both. No need for all the dramatics that some husband and wives invented! Sherlock believed himself and Molly to be a bit above all that. They were a much more level headed and realistic married couple than some out there. They’d been living together off and on for years anyway, starting in the days when he was “dead” and needed a bolt hole, and John’s comment about that “not counting” notwithstanding, Sherlock was confident that they had picked up enough knowledge about each other to have no surprised. Yes, they were much more equipped to make things work well than some of the other idiots who had said “I do” and signed on the dotted line.

Just then, as Sherlock walked through the door of the loo, something hit him in the face, making his eyes fly open wider.

"What the-" He grabbed at the thing he'd walked into and realized that in his hand he held...Molly's bra? Oh not this again!

"Molly!" Sherlock's voice boomed through the flat. 

He marched out of the loo and stuck his head out the flat door and into the landing, yelling her name again. After a time or two of this, Mrs. Hudson came halfway up the stairs, grimacing at the man clad in a sheet.

"Good heavens, Sherlock, what's gotten into you?"

"Where is my wife?!"

"She left for work ages ago. Maybe two hours? You should really try her mobile and save a poor old woman's ears." She walked away shaking her head in disapproval.

Sherlock growled to himself as he shut the door. After angrily marching back to the bedroom and throwing on a dressing gown (while also encountering more of Molly's clothing hanging in odd places or laying out on top of things) he grabbed his mobile and took the sound advice of his landlady.

WHY EXACTLY IS HALF YOUR WARDROBE HANGING ALL OVER THE FLAT?? -SH

MORNING SHERLOCK! AND IT'S FOR THE SAME REASON AS THE OTHER TIMES YOU'VE ASKED THIS QUESTION...IT'S LAUNDRY DAY. -MH

Sherlock sighed as he read her reply and began firing off a response.

YES...BUT I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU THAT I WAS WORKING TODAY. -SH

AND? -MH

AND I DON'T LIKE THINGS DISTURBED WHEN I'M WORKING! I CAN BARELY MOVE ABOUT THE FLAT PROPERLY! -SH  
OH IT'S NOT THAT BAD. :) AND BESIDES, I CAN'T JUST NOT DO MY WASH! -MH

DO IT ON ANOTHER DAY! -SH

There was a minute of radio silence and Sherlock waited for whatever response she had for that. Surely there was no reason why this annoying routine couldn't happen at a slightly different time!

BUT IT'S WEDNESDAY...AND THAT'S LAUNDRY DAY. ?? –MH

Sherlock almost threw his mobile across the room but instead managed to force himself to go wash up and get dressed among the chaos.

* * *

 “And if you’ll give me a day or so,” Sherlock said as he walked about the sitting room. “I can assure you that I will be able to locate the stolen stamp collection, with all stamps accounted for. I shall be pleased to take on your case, especially considering that this is currently my only offer.”

John offered the man a kind smile, clearly attempting to make up for the backhanded compliment.

“Well that’s quite a relief,” the man said as he stood from the chair with a grin. “Now, could I trouble you to use the loo before I go?”

“No.”

John shot a frown at Sherlock. “I’m sure it’s fine, Mr. Jones, it’s just right down-“

“No, John,” Sherlock said more emphatically. “I said no and I meant it. It won’t be possible.” He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket, glancing nervously down the hall in the direction of the room in question.

John continued giving him a half aggravated and half confused stare, but finally smiled at their client. “Look, why don’t we pop down to Sherlock’s landlady on the way out. I’m sure she can let you use the loo.” He mouthed “what’s the matter with you?” as he led the man out.

A few minutes later John came back upstairs and sighed as he shut the door. “Sherlock, I swear to God, if there are body parts in your washroom…”

“Oh no, John! No! Far more thrilling than that!” He grabbed his friend by the arm, leading him over to show him. “It looks like a women’s lingerie shop blew up in there!”

The second the door swung open John began laughing…a bit too maniacally for Sherlock’s taste.

“Every Wednesday, John. Every Wednesday the flat turns into a gaudy showcase of bras, knickers, and ugly jumpers! I can’t think straight in here!” He ruffled his curls while shutting the door to the loo so as to block the sight. “And she can’t possibly do it on another day! Oh noooo, that simply wouldn’t work seeing as Wednesday is apparently international laundry day, to be strictly observed upon pain of death!”

“Well, she’s got her routines, same as you,” John commented calmly.

“Name any routines of mine that are half as annoying!”

John craned his neck forward as he looked at Sherlock like he had three heads. “Have you met yourself recently? I don’t have time to list all your annoying routines if I’m to be back home with Mary and the baby by dinner time!”

“Pfft!” Sherlock waved off his friend’s all too accurate opinion.

“Just talk to each other!” John said with a laugh. “You two have got to learn to work together in adjusting to married life. Figure out what’s even worth getting worked up about and what's worth letting go of.”

Sherlock stopped in his tracks, closing his eyes and taking a deep cleansing breath. John was right, he reluctantly admitted: there were things that maybe he had to let go of. At least, for the moment. Molly was as much a creature of habit as he was, after all. He would just have to… “adjust” her habits to fit him better. Easily done, he was sure.

“Time for a change of scenery,” Sherlock said, going to grab his coat and scarf, walking out of the flat before John had a chance to catch up, the thrill of a new case putting a spring in his step.

* * *

 “Oh hi!” Molly chirped as Sherlock came in the bedroom. 

There she was, sorting through her clean and now dry clothes. All of them strewn out and almost totally covering the bedspread! She tilted her face up towards him, and he lent down to greet her with a kiss. Still a new habit, but one he was pleasantly surprised he didn’t mind.

“Solved the case,” he stated, removing his suit jacket and hanging it in his wardrobe. “Upon further investigation, I perhaps didn’t have to leave the flat for it, but it got John out of the house for Mary’s sake.”

Molly smiled at that. “I’m sure that Mary appreciated it.”

Sherlock walked back over to the bed, picking up one of her jumpers. “And I also happened to acquire some impromptu data this morning.”

“Oh did you?”

“Mm, yes.”

Sherlock waved the jumper in his hands towards her.. “These become one hundred and twenty five percent less appealing when draped over chairs to dry…” He dropped the jumper and picked up a pair of lacy knickers. “These become one hundred and seventy five percent less appealing when hanging from the shower rod…” He picked up a matching lace bra. “And these become a full two hundred percent less appealing when left where they will literally hit me in the face first thing in the morning.” He tossed each item back to its heap on the bed.

Molly opened her mouth to reply, but Sherlock interrupted her before she could speak. “I don’t care which day is ‘laundry day’.”

Molly nodded slowly while seeming to ponder over his words, and then she smiled at him while picking up the underwear set he’d used as reference. “So what you’re saying is that you like them on me far more?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Missing the point, Molly.” He stalked briskly from the bedroom and into the kitchen to get a pot of hot water going. Honestly, Molly was smarter than this, surely she could see what a problem her laundry explosion could be, considering how much more of her laundry had become “delicate” after their nuptials... 

He paused midway through setting up for tea, narrowing his eyes and mentally rewinding and replaying. He quirked an eyebrow as he yelled back into the bedroom.

“Why? Were you considering putting them on now?”

There was a responding giggle from the bedroom that had him abandon the whole idea of tea for the next few hours. Yes, he could fully admit there were one or two perks to this whole marriage arrangement. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come soon! ;)


	3. Days Married- 53

“I made some chicken sandwiches if you’re done with the case and you’re hungry!” Molly called from the shower as she heard Sherlock came walking in.

“Tea will be fine for now,” he replied, by the sound of it searching for something in the bathroom for a moment.

“How was the case?” Molly called out.

“Fine.”

Short but sweet.

“Oh good,” she replied, not really knowing how else to carry on the conversation. Sherlock wasn’t kidding when he said conversation wasn’t really her area.

Not that it mattered much when a shutting of the door showed that he’d left, probably in search of his tea. Silence settled in and Molly began to feel uneasy. There had been a lot of these moments lately. It seemed that this “experiment” had gone terribly wrong. That was how she’d begun to think of it. Sherlock marrying her was likely some sort of elaborate experiment in human behavior and now he was growing tired of the whole thing.

Molly took a series of deep breaths before rubbing her face quickly under the spray of the shower, switching off the water and stepping out. She wrapped her hair in a towel and could hear the sounds of her husband puttering in the kitchen before grabbing a fluffy robe. Wiping the steam off the mirror, she stared herself down, and let out a deep but quiet sigh. It would never do to keep thinking like this. True, her marriage wasn’t all roses for her either! She was still struggling to adjust and feel like this was their life  _ together  _ instead of two people who happened to share a small living space. She had hopes that he’d appreciate her latest gesture, but sadly he hadn’t noticed yet. Or at least, wasn’t voicing his notice.

“Get it together, Hooper,” she coached herself. This is the type of thing that happened to all couples, it shouldn’t have shocked her to believe that somehow she and Sherlock weren’t immune. No need to be fatalistic, or any need to draw up thirteen different contingency plans. One thing at a time, and they would be fine.

She exited the bathroom and moved into the kitchen where she found Sherlock picking up a mug from the dish rack. “Aren’t you ever going to put these somewhere else?” he commented in annoyance while gesturing to the plastic baggies that were drying alongside the dish ware.

Molly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “They’ve got to dry, Sherlock.”

“These are  _ disposable  _ items, Molly!”

“I’ve explained this to you before, Sherlock,” Molly said with exasperation. “I’ve always reused sandwich baggies and I think it’s a good habit to be in. It’s eco friendly and it saves money!”

“Yes, well not only have you surely impacted the environment sufficiently already, but there’s no need to so strictly save a few pennies every week anymore, is there? Seems a bit silly!”

She frowned. “You mean…now that we’re married?”

“Yes, now that we’re married! I’m financially stable, and so are you, and with our resources combined, I think you can dispense with some of the more ridiculous money saving methods.” He began flipping through the mail on the kitchen table, not seeming to notice that it now sat in a specially designated mail basket.

“That’s not fair, Sherlock. You can’t just tell me that the way I do things is wrong and I should stop simply because we’re not dirt poor. That’s no reason to stop doing something responsible like saving.” This may be one little thing, but it was quickly beginning to feel like a personal attack on her entire way of life.

“These…” Sherlock retorted, grabbing and waving one of the plastic bags. “…sitting around the kitchen all the time is hardly responsible! It’s nothing but an annoyance! And you’ve recently changed other things as well, don’t think I didn’t notice!”

“You obviously haven’t looked very closely,” Molly said crossing her arms angrily. “You don’t even care what I’ve changed or why!”

“You never asked me if I’d like you to rearrange the kitchen, did you?! No, you didn’t consider that it would be an inconvenience to anyone!”

“You’re being selfish and pigheaded, Sherlock!”

“I have the right to be!”

“Oh, do you?”

“Yes! It’s  _ my flat! _ ”

Molly’s jaw dropped as they stared at each other. Even Sherlock looked a little frightened as he clearly realized how very  _ not good  _ that was.

“You know what I mean,” he said more quietly.

“Oh yes I do, I know exactly what you mean, Sherlock!” Molly could feel her face getting redder and her voice becoming unsteady. “You don’t consider this an equal partnership! You think of me as some sort of guest, is that it? Perhaps even a temporary one,” she said with a huff, turning to go to the bedroom.

“Molly, I didn’t exactly mean-“

“I honestly don’t have time, Sherlock. I’ve got to get to work. Just do whatever you want while I’m gone. Rearrange the kitchen again, throw away my plastic bags, throw my things out the window for all I care!” She shut the door to the bedroom before he could get inside.

Molly waited for a brief moment, standing there silently and listening to see if he’d say anything else, perhaps try to make things right.

But a second later she heard his footsteps change direction and head to the sitting room. Of course. Giving up hope, she decided to ready herself for work and simply try not to think about her joke of a marriage that was quickly falling apart.

* * *

It was awfully quiet for a long time. Sherlock eventually came out of his mind palace and realized that Molly must have left for her shift a while ago.  _ Fine _ , he thought bitterly at first. At least he’d have the place to himself for a while.

His eyes darted to the kitchen and he replayed the conversation they’d just had.

He was a fool to think that he could make a marriage work. Yes, he was in love with Molly, of course he was. But he’d always known that’s not all it took in a relationship. Why else had he always avoided it?! He knew he didn’t have what it took and he completely ignored that fact in the moment. Stupid stupid feelings getting in the way of reason!

He had half a mind to actually do what she said. Maybe he would go through the kitchen and put everything back the way it was…the way it was supposed to be!

Sherlock marched over, fully prepared to start tossing things in the bin left and right. Unfortunately for him, he was instead hit with a surprise that he didn’t expect.

The kitchen was organized in an awfully familiar way. And the new things in it were also familiar. He examined some supply jars which each held all his swabs and his wooden sticks and gloves…they were the same as the ones from Bart’s. He noticed that the drawers closest to the table were labeled with Bart’s familiar tags. These were the drawers which held his science equipment, completely separate from any actual kitchen tools, unlike the way things were before. And then the fridge! That was what really made him catch his breath.

The entire top half was separated from anything edible, which he admitted was wise. And the bottom two shelves were completely fitted with medical containers and bags and labels…all exactly what Bart’s was equipped with. And to top it all off, there were a few bags that actually contained body parts, all labeled and ready for the taking!

Good God, she’d set up the kitchen to mimic actually being at Bart’s hospital.

Sherlock took only enough time to draw a deep breath before rushing over to grab his coat and head out the door.

* * *

"So if we move the lungs aside like this we can see the extent of the cancer even further. And I’ll just have Dr. Smithson here remove the right lung and we can all have a more detailed look.”

Molly was working very hard to focus on her job. She dearly wished that she wasn’t in the operating theater today. She really could have at least used the quiet and solitude of the morgue or the lab. There, she wouldn’t have to put on a professional face or string together coherent sentences when all she wanted to do was curl up with a blanket and have a good cry.

“The cancer didn’t originate in the lungs.”

The unmistakable voice echoed in the room over the theater intercom and Molly’s eyes shot up to the two way window overhead.

“Molly,” Sherlock said simply, looking back at her. The students were still there as well, a few on either side of him, now much more interested in what he was doing there than in the autopsy demonstration.

“I’m busy, Sherlock,” Molly hissed at him, feeling her face burst into flames with embarrassment at the scene they were now creating. “We can talk later.”

“No, now.”

Molly huffed out a sigh and looked back up at him. “This is ridiculous. I’m in the middle of a demonstration and this is not the time for having some sort of a domestic!” She dropped her voice to a whisper, despite it not changing the fact that everyone could hear her, which was accentuated by a couple stifled laughs.

“I didn’t come to fight, Molly,” he said, looking at her seriously. “I- I’m sorry. I was an idiot.”

Molly shifted her weight and hesitated for a second. “Still, Sherlock, this isn’t the time or-“

“I love you.”

Her expression melted instantly. Had he ever really said that before? She honestly wasn’t sure. But there he was, saying it now, staring intensely at her through the glass while surrounded by student doctors.

“Oh…um…” She glanced around at her colleagues before looking back up at Sherlock. “I love you too,” she answered softly.

“Forgive me for this morning?”

Oh God, that sad eyed look. She had to admit there was no way she could completely turn him away when he looked at her like that. She’d never been able to. Because it wasn’t the “I want to get my own way” sad eyed look. This one was far better. It was the “I need you” look, and there was nothing truly selfish about it.

Molly swallowed hard and finally nodded. “Ok, I forgive you.”

The corner of his lips lifted just slightly and there was a little sparkle of relief in those puppy dog eyes. “And what you did…” he added. “Those things you did in the kitchen…more than a little thrilling, I’d say.”

More snickering was heard.

Sherlock frowned at the reaction at first, but then his brows lifted in understanding and he attempted to clarify as Molly held herself back from crawling under the sheet alongside the cadaver.

“And when I say  _ things,  _ naturally I mean the improvements you made in the kitchen organization!” He glanced at the students around him and smiled. “She’s excellent at organizing.”

“Sherlock,” she drew his attention back again. “We really should continue this conversation later, don’t you think?”

“Um, Dr. Hooper, I don’t think the cancer did originate in the lungs,” young Dr. Smithson commented to her as an aside.

Molly smiled up at Sherlock. “Can everyone say good afternoon now to the awfully helpful and observant Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”

“A good afternoon to all of you as well,” he said with another brilliant grin. “And I will see you at home, Dr.  _ Holmes _ .”

The git had to wink at her on his way out, and heaven help her, but she was pretty sure she didn’t fully stop smiling for the rest of her shift. Molly had to admit that he had his moments. And this was definitely one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Hope you're enjoying seeing Sherlolly martial struggles along with their happy times. ;)


	4. Days Married- 121

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Let's take a peek at another sticky situation for these poor lil babies! :o ;)

“You do realize what you’ve got yourself into, yeah?” John asked, peering at Sherlock pointedly across the back seat of the cab.

“It’s a dinner, yes I know,” Sherlock answered casually, though there was a slight hitch in his voice that indicated some nerves.

“Yes, yes it is. But it’s _you,_ Sherlock. _You_ having dinner just for the purpose of socializing and chatting and being generally friendly and pleasant and all the things that you are almost incapable of being!”

Sherlock’s eyes began to dart about nervously. “Well there have been a few times I’ve managed to-“

“Almost incapable,” John repeated.

Sherlock pursed his lips. “Admittedly hadn’t really thought the evening through in much detail beforehand.”

John chuckled wryly. "Yeah, I guessed as much. So, I mean, she must have really begged you to do this hm?”

“No, not really. Molly said she’d made dinner plans with a couple of friends and I said that evening would work just fine for me and that’s the last we’ve spoken of it.”

John frowned. “You mean you _volunteered?_ ” He took Sherlock’s silence as answer. “Why in God’s name would you do that? You’ve never volunteered for anything even close to this. The closest thing was your own wedding dinner and you still made sure to leave in under an hour and a half! No, there’s got to be some reason you would decide to do this.”

“It seemed the logical thing to do,” Sherlock stated simply. “She did mention they were hoping to meet me.”

After a moment of contemplation, John’s lips parted in a little gasp. “Wait a minute, are things…not going well?”

Sherlock cleared his throat and looked out the cab window.

John sighed deeply. “Sherlock,” he said more gently. “Look, mate, you’ve only been married a few months. It’s still early days and you’re both settling in...but if there’s anything you want to talk about you know I’m always here.”

He said nothing, not willing to admit how desperately perplexed he was at the moment…how perplexed he was about the way to make a marriage work and especially how to make it last.

“Ok look, we don’t need to talk about that if you don’t want,” John offered. “But please, at least you need to take some general advice about this dinner.”

“That advice being?” Sherlock asked with a little sigh.

“Well, let’s start small. Why don’t you just make it the goal not to insult anyone all evening? I mean, it’s setting the bar pretty low, but I think that’s probably for the best considering the circumstances.”

“Right, I’m sure I can manage that much.” He drew a breath and smiled at his friend. “I’ll just be-“

“If you say you’ll be yourself I’ll punch you in the face!”

* * *

"The chocolate biscuits!” Meena said between uncontrolled giggles. “Oh God, you had to bring up those biscuits!”

“How could we ever forget?!” Andy said, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.

Sherlock had to turn his head for fear they would all see his eye roll. This was the…perhaps tenth chorus of laughter between Molly and her two long time friends, and Sherlock was loathed to admit that they were only halfway through dinner.

“Oh, sorry, Sherlock,” Andy offered as their laughter subsided. “It’s not even that funny, you’d really have to be there. It would only sound stupid if we tried to explain!”

“It even sounds stupid in my own head,” Molly giggled.

“No problem,” Sherlock responded flatly as he took another bite of his food, hoping that the others would follow suit and refrain from laughing while chewing.

“Gosh, we would have had such a fun time at your wedding, Molls. It’s a shame we missed it!” Meena said, making a quick topic switch.

"Oh yeah, well…” Molly glanced at Sherlock and smiled. “It was just sort of a decision we made in the moment and I guess we didn’t think much. There wasn’t any party anyway, so it’s not as if you missed anything.”

“We ate at Angelo’s afterward,” Sherlock added. “It’s a nice little Italian-“

“I’m still disappointed we didn’t all get to dance the night away at that waterfront place you had booked with Tom a couple years ago,” Andy said casually.

Sherlock’s eyes instantly darted to the man in irritation, but he clearly thought nothing of the comment. He looked at Molly, ready for her to shoot down the topic. He was a bit horrified at how wrong he was.

“Oh I loved that place,” Molly said dreamily. “The water view and the stars visible through the skylights…it was absolutely magical!”

Sherlock felt something akin to a pain in his chest and suddenly the start eyed look on Molly’s face only made him uneasy.

“Mm, and I loved the dresses we had picked out!” Meena chimed in. “I should have just ordered mine when you first showed me and then I’d have got to keep it even after the whole thing crashed and burned!”

All three chuckled a little.

“Tom’s doing well, by the way,” Andy said.

“Oh really? That’s nice to hear.” Molly smiled genuinely. “It’s nice you two stayed friends.”

“Oh how could I not?” Andy asked with a short laugh. “You know Tom, just a good guy all around. I know it didn’t work out with the two of you, but I’ll always consider him to be just such a good sort of bloke. Worth keeping around!”

“He told me to tell you hi the last time I saw him,” Meena said. “He was happy for you, about your news.” She glanced at Sherlock and smiled.

“That’s so nice of him. Well if you see him again, tell him I hope he’s doing well too,” Molly responded sweetly.

“Still working on opening up that restaurant!” Andy shook his head and laughed. “Optimistic to a fault, as always. He’ll make it happen one day, I’m sure of it.”

“Yes well,” Sherlock began. “In this city he’ll have to be sure to-“

“Oh oh!” Meena squealed. “Molly, remember when he came home with all those crates of fish and you nearly had his head?! He said he’d been out ‘networking!’”

The three of them dissolved in laughter again.

"Yes, I could tell he was an aspiring chef the first evening I met him,” Sherlock stated tersely, and suddenly the other three fell silent and looked at him.

Molly looked at him, very obviously nervous at his slight shift in tone. He had been about to go on; all about how he was clearly a chef, and also how he was clearly struggling to make a go of his own restaurant, and all his general failings in the area of business and administration despite his adequate culinary abilities…but one look at his wife reminded him of his minimal requirements for the evening, and he held back.

“I um, really loved his taste in food,” Meena chimed in, filling the silence. “Wasn’t he planning for all this amazing gourmet French catering for the reception?”

Sherlock leaned back in his chair, tiring of attempting to eat his plate of food as the subject of Molly’s previous engagement came to the surface again.

“He was!” Molly agreed with a grin. “He insisted on taking care of all the food plans. Wanted to surprise me actually.”

Silence fell again, as the subject had come a bit too close for comfort.

“Must have been glad when it all fell through, eh?” Andy said playfully to Sherlock. “Finally gave you a bit of a clear path!”

Sherlock stared at the man evenly, literally biting his tongue and refraining from detailing how there had never been anything but a clear path between himself and Molly. As if his feelings or actions with Molly had anything to do with some other man being kind enough to step aside and make way for him!

All of a sudden, Sherlock knew without a doubt that he could not be there any longer.

“Terribly sorry, I’ve got to check this,” Sherlock spat out and took his mobile from his pocket. “Ah, what a shame. It seems that crime in London never sleeps!”

Molly watched him in shock as he quickly got up from his seat and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“B-but, can’t it wait maybe twenty-“

“Afraid not, but you stay,” he said quickly. “A pleasure to meet both of you, and do enjoy the rest of the evening!”

Meena and Andy attempted a polite goodnight, but he was many strides from the table before they could fully finish their sentences.

Sherlock Holmes had never hated a dinner so much in his life.

* * *

Molly paced the floor of the flat. She tapped her mobile against the palm of her hand, rethinking what she’d say over and over again as she anticipated her husband’s arrival. This was not going to be good. The more time passed, the angrier she was becoming.

The fact that he’d been gone all night after leaping from the dinner table was bad enough. But when she’d gotten worried at almost two in the morning and phoned Lestrade and John, and had gotten word from them that there was no case currently being worked on…that really put her over the edge.

She'd barely slept the rest of the night after sending him another text asking where he was. He had simply said he was busy and would be home by morning and not to worry. That hardly eased her concern or irritation. She had finally sent him another text while making an extra strong pot of coffee and asked if she’d see him before she went to work in a couple of hours. He said yes, he’d be back soon. And now that she was ready for work and waiting for his arrival, all she had to do in the meantime was stew about exactly what to say.

When Sherlock’s telltale footsteps finally approached the door, she was practically ready to explode.

He walked in and calmly hung his coat and scarf, not saying anything yet and not noticing the way she stood there with her arms crossed. When he finally turned and looked her over, he raised a brow.

“Clearly you didn’t sleep well last night.”

“And I wonder why that might be,” Molly drawled sarcastically.

“Yes well I had a-“

“There wasn’t any case, so don’t bother with that excuse!” Molly quickly interrupted. After a moment of silence from him, she went on. “Was it really that much for you, hm? Just one meal with some of my friends and it makes you run off to one of your bolt holes all night! For God’s sake, Sherlock, you were the one who wanted to go!”

Sherlock perched his hands on his hips and began laughing bitterly. “Using the word ‘want’ a bit loosely, don’t you think? Try a bit of deduction of your own! Why exactly would I choose to be at such a dinner?! Could it possibly be that I agreed only because I thought it would make you happy?”

Molly stared back at him in silence, a little taken aback.

"And what was that claim you made when you told me of the dinner? Ah yes, that your friends hoped to meet me! What a load of rubbish!”

“What are you talking about? They did want to meet you!” Molly countered, finding her voice again.

“Hardly!” Sherlock scoffed. “They were far more concerned with dwelling on the past. Your past more specifically! They cared little of nothing for your marriage which actually did take place and wasn’t called off!”

Molly shook her head and crossed her arms defensively. “They’ve known Tom for years. You can’t just expect them to ignore him or everything that happened! And we did happen awfully fast. Too fast for them to have time to get used to! And besides, what do you care what they think about you or us?”

That was when Sherlock whirled and faced her with fire in her eyes. “I don’t! I care nothing for what they think of me! What mattered to me was that you were playing right along with them the entire time!”

Molly’s jaw dropped. “I- I was not!”

“Weren’t you? Oh please! You were just as happy to live in the past as they were!”

She was rendered a bit speechless for a moment, trying to concoct something else in defense. Sherlock spoke again before she could come up with anything else.

“I didn’t force myself to attend a tedious and annoying dinner simply to listen to my wife discuss her previous wedding plans and how very lovely her ex-fiancé is! Exactly what part of that dinner was meant for me to be a part of? It was a waste of my time!” He turned around again to cross his arms angrily and stare out the window. “Tell me, are you actually glad to have married me?”

Molly looked at him in horror. “What? How can you ask me that? Of course I’m glad we’re married. How can you question that?”

“Turn the tables, Molly, and imagine yourself at a similar dinner with your husband and his friends.” He turned to look at her. “And tell me if you wouldn’t be asking the same question.”

She shut her lips and felt color flood her face in instant embarrassment. How had she not seen it like that? It hadn’t felt like that in the moment, but in hindsight...

“Sherlock,” she said more softly, now feeling awfully self conscious. “Look, everything with us…it was fast. We- we didn’t think. We just ran out and got married one day! God knows I didn’t know what we were doing, but I was so caught up in all of it- in you! So I didn’t care! Sometimes I suppose I just look back now and…I don’t know…”

He turned again, his mouth very slightly down-turned. “Yes, I believe I know exactly what you’re trying to say.” His cold tone conveyed his hurt, and the fact that his walls were rapidly building around him. “Clearly we didn’t think. And perhaps if we had given it thought…things would have turned out differently.”

Tears sprang to Molly’s eyes and she tried her best to hide them. But having to wipe them away did nothing but display her emotions.

"I didn't say I wanted things to be different," she whispered as steadily as she could manage.

Sherlock let out a bitter little laugh. “Don’t you know me at all, Molly? You don’t always have to _say_ things for me to see them clearly.”

Sherlock turned with the intention of walking down the hall and sulking in the bedroom, but Molly shot a hand out, grabbing his arm and stopping him in his tracks.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat, her embarrassment and sorrow trying to bubble up to the surface.  "You're right, Sherlock," she whispered. "Things should be different…I don’t want us to be like this.”

She looked up at his strong profile, seemingly made of stone, but she knew him, she could always _see_ him: he was seriously hurt and it was all her fault. How, oh _how_ did it become like this?

Molly took a step towards him, coming around to his front and wrapping her arms around her husband, a few treacherous tears escaping her lashes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Please...please forgive me.”

She did her best to prepare herself for the worst as Sherlock remained stiff in her arms, her breathing ragged with the effort of holding back her crying. And then, she felt him move, hands smoothing up her back before wrapping his arms around her. He dropped his head beside hers and let out a long sigh, matching Molly’s almost exactly as she realized that she’d been holding her breath. Tears did finally flow as they held each other silently in the sitting room for a while, before Sherlock finally pulled back from her, reaching up to wipe her face with his thumbs. With a small (and somehow still heartbroken) smile, he silently took her hand and led her to the bedroom, the door closing quietly behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No question, that would be pretty uncomfortable and inappropriate to spend a dinner happily talking up previous wedding plans and the ex fiancé in front of your new spouse. So, understandably, Molly has things to learn too. Getting married doesn't mean you instantly and automatically know how to act like you're married all the time. It doesn't happen overnight. It's gotta be practiced and learned with time. #real talk (Lol!)  
> Stay tuned! Next chapter is a fun one! ;D


	5. Days Married- 153

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're interested, a specific location described in this chapter is super duper cannon compliant hehe. Bless Lexie and her observant eye! She mentioned something she noticed while watching ASiB recently and it worked just beautifully for the events in this chapter. If you want to see what I mean, check out the scene where Sherlock and Mycroft go to identify Irene's body at Bart's morgue. In that scene, look specifically at what's behind Molly when the camera is on her...and then you'll know exactly what area I'm referring to in this chapter. ;) Enjoy!

It seemed a normal and uneventful day at Bart’s as Molly began setting up to do some routine tests on samples. She hummed at the table as she took out a pair of gloves and safety glasses and all the while made a little list in her head of the few items she needed at the market on her way home from work that evening. Of course, things didn’t continue to be so uneventful when a certain consulting…husband of hers walked in the door. She hadn’t expected him today since his case out of town had been going on for about a week now.

“Ah, Molly, there you are,” he said, looking bright eyed and a bit breathless. “I’ll need you downstairs in the morgue.”

“Oh um, welcome back, but…” she began hesitantly, holding up the purple gloves. “I was just about to start-“

“Yes yes, but a man’s alibi depends on it. Come now, let’s not waste valuable time!” He reached out impatiently to her, clearly ready to exit the room as quickly as he came in.

Molly sighed and set the gloves down. “Ok fine.” She waved to a colleague on her way out, being practically dragged along by the hand. “I’ll be right back, Christopher!”

They were gone before she could hear his reply, but figured her lab work wasn’t an urgent matter of life and death. Probably best to take care of this emergency first.

"What's going on? Are you still working the same case even though you’re back in London, or is this a new one?" Molly asked as they made their way hastily down the stairs. Apparently the lift wasn’t going to move quite quickly enough for some people.

“All will be explained in _explicit_ detail once we reach our destination,” Sherlock said with a slight smirk in his tone.

When they finally reached the morgue and went in, after Sherlock visually swept the whole of the room, he took Molly’s hand again and led her into the open small supply closet. The second they’d crossed the threshold, a confused Molly found herself being gently whirled around and backed firmly against the wall of boxed gloves. Sherlock’s mouth collided with hers for a blissful moment before she was able to pull away and question him with wide eyes.

“I thought you were working!”

“No, solved the case, brilliantly of course,” Sherlock answered quickly while dipping his head to the side and attaching his lips to the side of her neck, having obviously calculated _just_ the right spot to do so.

“I- I- didn’t even think you’d be- mm...back by today,” Molly struggled to say as she secured her arms around his shoulders, out of necessity as much as anything else since her eyes had now instinctively fluttered closed. “You’ve been working this case for…for…”

“Yes, it’s been days, many long days,” he murmured low against her skin, all the while running his hands up and down her back adoringly. “An absolute eternity!”

“You should have…sent a text or something this morning,” Molly whispered, her own breaths becoming quick and unsteady as his mouth returned it’s expert attention to her neck. “I could have- ah- gone home early or-“

“Molly, do shut up!” Sherlock growled, and then he promptly accomplished this himself by covering her mouth with his again.

This especially deep and passionate kiss coaxed a much more audible groan of approval from Molly’s throat, which naturally only further encouraged her already enthusiastic husband. He pulled her in closer, wrapped his arms around her tighter, and kissed her more greedily.

Everything about this felt like absolute heaven, she thought dreamily. She half attempted to figure how long it had been since she’d been given this sort of attention from Sherlock, but her mind could only work out as far as something over a week. Some time just before he left for the case out of town…the exact number of days was hardly important. All she knew, as she felt his fingers pressing insistently into the soft flesh around her hips, was that it had been too long. She actually hadn’t realized how desperately she missed him till this moment. This was most certainly what she had been needing. She needed him. As the next few moments passed, just about everything else around them began to melt deliciously away in Molly’s brain, even including the couple of glove boxes that had now been knocked off the shelf by her bun on the back of her head. No, none of that mattered at the moment.

What did, however, make her eyes fly open and bring her back to reality was the soft creaking sound of the morgue door swinging open.

Molly nearly had a heart attack, because that was the same moment she realized that one of Sherlock’s hands had very skillfully already opened the buttons halfway down her blouse. She shoved one palm against his chest, effectively halting him, and then grasped her blouse close with the other hand while gasping for air and desperately listening for who had just entered the morgue.

Mercifully, she heard the muffled voice speaking to someone else in the hallway…and then they heard the morgue door swing shut once more.

“Oh God, that was close,” Molly said with a sigh of relief, her shaky fingers desperately closing up the buttons again.

“They’re gone, it’s perfectly fine,” Sherlock said calmly, beginning to slide his hands around her waist again.

“Sherlock, stop!”

Her tone and expression made him halt in his tracks instantly, leaving no option but to back off.

“Molly, what is the problem?” He huffed while straightening his suit jacket. “Nobody’s working in the morgue at the moment. I checked schedules ahead of time!”

“Yes, but obviously that doesn’t stop someone from deciding they need to just pop in for a moment to check a file or something!” She then gestured around them in the small storage room. “They might even think to stop in here and grab some protective equipment!”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice where we were. I chose this area by design,” Sherlock said with a little smirk. “You know I do take _protection_ seriously.”

Molly spared a begrudging smile. “Hilarious, Sherlock. But honestly, what in God’s name would I have done if someone really found us here?!”

Sherlock shrugged. “There’s no need to fret about your job, Molly. One call to Mycroft would ensure that something as trivial as this would never come back to bite you.”

Her eyes widened in horror. She could hardly believe the words that had just come out of his mouth.

"Come on, come with me,” Molly spat out, grabbing his hand and pulling him along to follow.

They exited the morgue and she marched them around the corner into a conference room which was currently unoccupied. She shut the door and faced him to see that his eyes had brightened considerably.

“You know, you’re right, I absolutely should have thought of this,” he said, glancing around the room and looking pleased. “Admittedly, there’s no way to cover the window, but at least there’s a lock on the door, and against this wall I believe the visibility from outside would be-“

“I moved us here because we need to talk, Sherlock,” she stated firmly, but kept her voice under control.

“Oh.” He leaned against the conference table, looking dejected again.

“I hardly know where to start,” Molly said, shaking her head in disbelief.

He frowned a little. “The choice of the PPE closet was that unappealing to you?”

She let out a deep sigh. “Look, I just think you need to understand that there have to be some boundaries. And I’m not just talking about where you think it’s appropriate to seduce me. I’m also talking about the fact that you’d actually consider involving your brother in my professional life!”

“If you recall, he has taken an interest in protecting your reputation and job in the past,” he stated pointedly.

“That was different, Sherlock. Everything he and I did was to keep you alive. It was literally a matter of life and death! This _obviously_ does not fit into the same category. Never in a million years would I want your brother pulling rank and saving me from getting sacked because I decided to…” She dropped her voice a bit despite the fact that they were alone. “Shag my husband on the job!”

Sherlock stared back at her silently for a moment, and then he drew a breath while crossing his arms. “So I suppose evidence would lead me to conclude that…despite the fact that women seem to almost universally desire a wildly romantic spouse, the reality of how those romantic gestures are received is not exactly what one would expect.”

Molly was the one to cross her arms then. “I think that’s hardly fair.”

“And you didn’t come on the case with me either,” he stated, his boyish pout deepening.

She let her arms drop and stepped over closer to him, speaking gently. “Sherlock, you have to be realistic. You asked me the day before! And it’s near the end of the year and I have no holiday time left. I could never have skipped off for a week at this short notice. And again, don’t tell me that we could have magically taken care of it with one call to Mycroft! This is _my_ job, and I care about being professional. I knew I’d miss you, but it was the right thing to do for me to stay.”

“And considering the fact that you might have missed me, I thought you might appreciate an especially _affectionate_ reunion. Apparently not,” he stated with a little wag of his head.

Granted, he had no right to be emotionally injured by this sort of rejection, but Molly felt for the poor man anyway. He wasn’t thinking things through terribly well, but he was trying…in his own clueless sort of way.

“I did miss you,” she said softly, reaching up to caress his face. “I missed having you around and I missed, you know…” She blushed and smiled shyly. “ _Everything_ about us.”

This coaxed a small lift in his lips as well. “Did you?”

“Of course I did,” she said with a little laugh. “And believe me, I’m _all yours_ when I get home in a couple hours!”

He grinned, but then his expression shifted a little and Molly could see he’d just had another thought. “Actually, now that you mention this evening…”

“You’re starving, aren’t you?”

He smiled again.

Not surprising. The man probably hadn’t eaten a proper meal all week long. It was a wonder he had the strength to seduce her at all!

“I’ll pick up some take away on my way home, ok? How’s Indian sound?”

“You read my mind, Mrs. Holmes,” he said while leaning in to kiss her forehead.

They left the conference room after that and headed separate ways, Molly back upstairs to the lab and Sherlock out the basement exit. As they’d said goodbye though, Sherlock called out to her again.

“And after dinner,” he added, looking at her with slightly wolfish eyes. “I will remind you of exactly what you’ve been missing.”

Molly bit her lip and giggled happily, almost tripping as she turned back around to continue on her way upstairs. It looked like this was about to be a very good night.

* * *

Molly smiled at herself in the washroom mirror as she gave her hair an extra little fluff. Keeping it up in a bun most of the day had created a loose all over wave. This worked out well since this was definitely the sort of night when she wanted romantic flowing tresses! And given the special circumstances, she didn’t stop at the hair.

She adjusted the straps on the black lace nightie that she’d smuggled into the washroom with her. She was a little sorry to say that she hadn’t actually bothered with any of this kind of frilly fun since the couple of weeks immediately after their wedding. All those things quickly fell by the wayside in the hustle and bustle of normal days and nights. But tonight, she did really want a bit of a _wow_ reaction. She was looking forward to showing him what _he’d_ been missing as well! After rubbing in a bit of vanilla lotion on her legs, she finally decided it was time to make her grand entrance.

Molly opened the door and crept out quietly. Since he was sitting in his chair by the fire, she was hoping to catch him by surprise when appearing in the kitchen doorway. Unfortunately though, it was Molly who was surprised.

A small smile graced her lips as she padded slowly over to the fireplace…where her husband was slumped over with eyes shut. She leaned down and gently pressed her lips to his forehead, which didn’t rouse him but only made him stir slightly and mumble a bit in his sleep. She straightened up again, having definitely confirmed that he wasn’t just in his mind palace, and grabbed a blanket from John’s old chair. She covered him up carefully and shut the lights off in the sitting room.

Molly crept back into the kitchen to put the Indian take away containers in the bin and quietly place the dishes in the sink. Once that was done, she went to the bedroom and discarded the black lace number, replacing it with her favorite old sleep shirt. She walked back down the hall one more time to shut the kitchen lights off, and she gave her peaceful looking husband one last small smile.

“Goodnight,” she whispered. “You infuriatingly adorable man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, that's reality for you! Sometimes, at the end of the day, things just...don't happen lol. Even the very sexy Sherlock Holmes can get awfully tired! XD The poor man needed some food and rest. But I'm sure they made up for lost time soon enough. ;) And I really don't think that Molly, being the responsible professional she is, would actually be ok risking her job just to have a little fun like that. Yes it's romantic to think of him sweeping her off her feet literally anywhere, but in the real world it probably wouldn't fly. There I go bursting the fantasy bubble again lol! ;D  
> PS- I'm now caught up with posting the chapters that had been previously completed and I'm currently working on ch 6. I also have another little project I'm working on, but hopefully ch 6 will be done within the week. :)


	6. Days Married- 207

Sherlock had been leaning over for what felt like an absolute age. He hadn't imagined something this simple could prove to be so back breaking! Though, he had to admit that Lizzie Watson's gummy grins were making it worthwhile.

He held her little eleven month old hands and continued assisting her in the only thing she wanted to do these days: practice walking.

"You do both realize, I hope, that due to my height this is far more uncomfortable than it would be for either of you!" Sherlock called into the kitchen where Mary and John were making some tea to take on the go.

"You'll live, Sherlock!" John called back.

"You never know if you might need the practice," Mary added with a teasing tone.

He rolled his eyes at that comment. No, he was sure he would absolutely know if he'd be needing the practice with children. Whether or not Molly could be pregnant would hardly be a mystery to him. And besides, he was also pretty sure that this was not the best time for them to be planning for children.

Mary and John emerged from the kitchen with travel mugs in hand and Mary scooped up Lizzie to wrestle her into some shoes.

"Any cases after this one, John?" Sherlock asked as his friend put on a coat.

"You have access to your own email as well, you know," John said with a laugh. "But no, nothing after this."

Sherlock let out a little groan. "Do you think it would be too obvious if I drag out this case through the weekend?"

"I thought you said this was a three."

"It is…but it would be especially convenient if I were tied up through Saturday." He sighed. "I've got to find some way out of this dinner with my parents."

"Oh no you don't!" Mary chimed in.

"Oh relax, Mary! It isn't as if my parents haven't met my wife yet. Believe me, they've shoved their way into Baker St a handful of times since Molly and I got married!"

John chuckled softly, but said nothing, clearly leaving this to his wife.

"That is not the same thing, Sherlock. This is an invitation to their home, and it'll be Molly's first time there as part of the family," Mary explained carefully. "She deserves this and you are absolutely not to take it away from her!"

Sherlock grimaced. "She deserves this?! Who would want it? To be smothered and made a fuss over!"

"No…to be accepted and loved!" Mary corrected. "What woman wouldn't want to feel that from her husband's family, hm? I can promise you she wants that. And she'd hate for them to think she's avoiding them! You'd only be putting off the unavoidable anyway. You two will have to go eventually."

Sherlock pursed his lips in silent thought. It was difficult to argue with that logic.

"Besides," Mary added with a pointed look. "Don't you think that maybe this dinner could be helpful?"

"Helpful for…"

Mary shrugged. "Perhaps a bit of advice from seasoned experts? How long have your parents been married now? Is it over 40 years?"

"Yeeees," Sherlock admitted, though the connection hadn't fully clicked yet.

"Well if they've made it work, then surely they must have some time tested wisdom to share."

"To share with me?"

"Yes, with you, Sherlock! For your marriage!" Mary specified in exasperation. "Especially your father!"

"Why specifically my father?"

Mary stood, hoisting her now fully dressed daughter onto her hip, and smiled at him. "Because, Sherlock, he's the sane one."

Sherlock became silent as he considered this advice. He kissed Lizzie's head as she leaned toward him in her mother's grasp, and soon after was out the door with all three Watson's. And he wouldn't have liked to admit how much Mary got him thinking after that little conversation. It got him wondering…how much marital wisdom could he perhaps glean from his father this weekend?

* * *

"It was so delicious, Millie!" Molly said genuinely as they all stood from the table. She picked up her plate but Sherlock's mother playfully slapped her hand.

"Oh absolutely not, my dear! I always make the boys clean up after supper. It's only right, seeing as they've always been rubbish help with the actual cooking."

Molly giggled at Sherlock's expression.

"I think I remember why I moved to London," he muttered.

"Oh come on, it'll be like old times," Sherlock's father said to his son with a little wink at Molly.

"You see," Millie said to Molly as she picked up their wine glasses and led her to the sitting room. "He's lived with me longer, so he knows better than to complain!"

Molly and Millie took a seat by the fireplace and the older woman took a sip of her wine before speaking.

"There now, we're alone. Now, of course I love my son more than life itself, but I do hope you know I will absolutely murder him if he doesn't treat you just as well as you deserve," she said quite seriously.

Molly had to carefully swallow her sip of wine while giggling. "It's fine, really. He's doing…well."

Millie raised a brow and shook her head. "Molly, please remember that I birthed and spent over eighteen years with that boy under my roof. There's no need to fib."

"No, it's ok. We're both adjusting," Molly stated diplomatically. "I've always known what Sherlock is like, so it's not as if it's all a complete shock to live with him. I love him. I'll always love him and that's what matters, regardless of any difficult times."

"Yes, well, until you don't love him one day."

Molly's eyes became saucers and her jaw fell slack. She was so shocked that it was difficult to "N-no, I'd never not- I mean, I'll always love-"

"Oh no no," she said with a quick dismissive wave. "Please don't take that the wrong way, my dear. I hardly meant it as an insult. But the reality of marriage is that love can fade, or at least that passionate fluttery love you're thinking about. It doesn't always stay...unless you choose to keep it alive even when it falters."

Molly set her mouth in a serious line. "Well I don't ever want to give up."

"And I absolutely believe you," she said genuinely. The older woman was silent for a moment, and then smiled. "Listen to me, Molly. The start of marriage is hard- no arguments, it is! And there's no shame in admitting it! Not even to your husband's mother! Trust me, I remember it myself. I honestly don't think we truly settled until after our first anniversary."

"You've done so well together though," Molly said, almost wistfully. She could admit that she envied them in a way.

"Credited only to hard work!" Millie stated seriously. "How passionately you love one another matters only so much. Other qualities can be far more valuable at times."

She nodded. "Well yes, I have been working on being understanding and patient. Nobody's perfect, and I'm certainly not either so-"

"Very true, my dear. That is important. We all know how my boy can be, so patience is an important aspect of your marriage!" She chuckled a little which Molly joined in on. "But don't forget the importance of _teaching_ him."

"Teaching him?"

"Yes, of course! There are areas in which Sherlock tends to be a bit oblivious, but he can make up for such a thing given the fact that he's a quick learner. But! That is only if someone takes the time to tell him where he must improve. And not just tell him, but also _help him_."

Molly smiled. "Yeah I guess sometimes I spend a lot of time feeling frustrated because Sherlock doesn't get something, but I forget to truly say anything to him about it."

"As much as my son hates to admit it, he really isn't a mind reader," she said with a little wink. "Don't be afraid to tell him how you feel, and you might just be surprised."

"By what?"

"By how hard he's willing to try."

Those words shook her. What a powerful thought. She had been assuming all this time that Sherlock wouldn't want to hear about anything she thought he should work on. But perhaps if done correctly, it would be exactly what was needed to mend those little problem areas and bind their union even more securely.

Just then they heard a dish hit something. Possibly the counter or possibly another dish, but it didn't sound like it broke.

"That is our best china!" Millie bellowed in their direction. "Would you two please be careful in there?!"

* * *

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Nothing is going to break! I have cat-like reflexes!" he yelled back.

"I don't," his father chuckled. "She's probably mostly talking to me."

"Certainly hope so," Sherlock responded indignantly.

"This is good practice for you, eh?"

Sherlock frowned at his father while drying a dish and setting it aside. "What is?"

"Having a friendly chat while washing up. It's a good opportunity to talk for a married couple."

"Is it?" He looked nervous, thinking that he had no idea what his father was actually talking about. Married people lived together, so…were they really still supposed to look for times to _have a friendly chat?_ It seemed a bit unnecessary to him.

"Oh yes," his father confirmed. "Your mother and I had many important talks right here over a sink full of dishes. Worked things out by the time the sink was empty and the dishes were dry. Why, we even decided to have you after one of those chats!" he said with a laugh.

"Oh for God's sake." Sherlock's facial features scrunched up in distaste.

"What I mean is that we decided we'd like to have another child," he clarified.

"Look, Molly loves me and I love her," Sherlock shot out, almost defensively. "Isn't that what matters? What really matters more than any silly domestic moments?"

His father smiled and spoke very softly. "But they're not silly. None of those little things are ever silly. Because they all add up, don't they? My dear boy, all those years growing up in this household, you saw...but did you not observe?" he asked gently.

Sherlock was rendered a little speechless for a moment at his father's skillfully wielded words.

"My point is that you should take opportunities to be together. Not just live together but _really_ be together and focus on each other. Even if it is just a brief moment out of the day."

_Oh._ Yes, he supposed he could see the logic in that. He certainly understood the concept of being in the same room with a person but devoting almost zero actual focus to them. He could so easily focus his mind internally. Sometimes everything else simply slipped away.

Sherlock thought again about what Mary had said. His mind drifted further, to memories within this very household, moments that he'd never given the right attention to but also never removed from his memory: casual reminders, silent conversations in the language of touch, and countless others that he would have to take some time to pull out and study. A pattern of success. Perhaps he should really be paying attention to whatever counsel his father had to offer. He cleared his throat.

"And…that helps?" His voice sounded small, even to his own ears.

"Oh tremendously! Knowing that the person you love is focused entirely on you and that what they care most is how you feel and think…" He shook his head slowly and smiled. "Well that's enough to make your day. Maybe your week!"

Sherlock looked down, thinking as he ran the dish cloth around the dinner plate.

"You know how hard your mother worked in her field, before you and your brother I mean. Oh she was more than singularly focused! And smarter than I could ever hope to be of course." He chuckled softly to himself before looking at Sherlock again. "But those times when she'd stop scribbling away at her equations for a bit and come wrap her arms around my waist meant, well, it meant everything to me in that moment…not that I didn't put in a little effort myself from time to time," he said with a wink.

Hazarding another leading question, Sherlock spoke up again. "What sort of effort exactly?"

His father shrugged. "Oh, it would depend on the situation and on her of course. But some sort of gesture to show that you care very much about her and want to make her feel loved. A little romance never hurt, eh?"

Sherlock raised a brow and turned to put some plates away, choosing to avoid eye contact with his father at that slightly embarrassing statement. He wished Molly could see him now. _This_ was a gesture! To think he'd have this conversation with his father!

"It's got to be unselfish," the older man went on. "Think about what would make her happy, and perhaps make a night of it. Food, music…anything that might give her a bit of relaxation and escape. She's a hard working woman, your wife!"

Sherlock nodded thoughtfully as he dried his hands. Yes, it was true. Perhaps he had overlooked the fun of planning an evening around Molly. It would be an interesting project, trying to arrange things just to her taste and for her benefit. And he did have a bit of time on his hands since cases were a bit slow these days. He saw no reason why he couldn't make a wild success of this sort of venture if he put his mind to it!

"Perhaps you're right," Sherlock commented to his father as they both began wrapping it up at the sink.

"Ah? About which part?"

"Washing up of course…quite a productive method of brainstorming."

* * *

It was late by the time Sherlock and Molly were driving back to London. The car they'd borrowed from Mycroft sailed smoothly along the quieter country roads. The occupants of the car were equally quiet for a long while. Finally though, Molly turned and gazed at her husband who was at the wheel.

Her eyes slipped over his profile, jawline, and eyes which focused on the road. _Her husband._ No, he wasn't just the handsome and charismatic man who whirled in and out of her life and work. He was her life, and she was his. This was their life, together as a team. Yes, this evening had made her think seriously. This was no game they were playing at. And it would take conscious and calculated effort to make a success of it. Every day, every year, and for the rest of their lives. She wanted to make that effort, even if it was difficult or frustrating at times. Because she loved him, and she had made a vow to _keep on_ loving him. Molly would make sure she kept up her end of that vow, whatever it took. And she knew that if she did that, it would certainly help make things easier. She smiled a little, remembering something she'd been taught many years ago…

_Love never fails._

"What are you thinking of so loudly, Molly," Sherlock said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm glad we went."

He turned to briefly meet her gaze. "Are you?"

She nodded. "I think it was…it was just, you know, really nice."

He stared ahead silently for a moment before his lips lifted very slightly. "Then I'm glad as well."

Another moment later they each became quiet again for a while. But after a few minutes, Molly broke the silence, her head still rested on the car window as she stared out at the star lit sky.

"I enjoyed talking to your mum. She's very clever." A secret smile could be detected on her lips. "And that was nice you got to spend some time with your dad. What did you two talk about all that time?"

Sherlock continued looking up at the stars. "Oh just idle chatter."

He reached across the seat and met her hand, threading their fingers securely together as he spoke again more softly.

"But, as it happens…he's rather clever as well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They both came away with something to think about! It's now time to get serious about putting this sort of advice into practice and seeing the positive results! Thanks again for sticking around and following this fic. Possibly another chapter next week, but my priority has to be on my other project at the moment. ;D  
> (thanks again to Lexie for the editing and insightful suggestions!)


	7. Days Married- 235

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Glad I was able to crank out another chapter this week. Had some giggles with Lexie while plotting this one lol. I'll admit that I'm dialing down the conflict a bit and starting to turn up the positivity. Yes, they're struggling to make it work, but there's good times too. And they're starting to learn, which will help things get better and better overall. And on that note, hope you enjoy this one! ;)

Sherlock held his head in irritation while pushing himself up to a sitting position in bed. What in God's name was that sound in the kitchen? Was that a…drill?

He managed to make himself get up and get dressed. Regardless of whatever insanity was going on out there, he had to get the day going. Things to do! He'd need to get to the market and buy ingredients, and some of Molly's favorite red wine, oh! And must stop at that bakery, the one Mycroft always raved about. Something rich with chocolate should do the trick.

As Sherlock shrugged his suit jacket over his shoulders and emerged from the bedroom, he was surprised to catch a glimpse of Molly walking from the kitchen to the sitting room. The confused crease on his brow deepened further as he entered the kitchen and was greeted by the back of an unknown man wearing a tool belt and working on his cabinet doors.

"Molly? Molly?" Sherlock walked past the kitchen to where his wife stood sipping her coffee by the window. "What are you still doing here? Didn't your shift start two hours ago?"

"No, I switched with Amelia. She's got an unexpected family thing tonight and didn't want the later shift. I figured it would be no trouble. Got to have a bit more sleep anyway," she said brightly.

Sherlock sighed a little. "Yes, but that means you won't be arriving home till nine tonight." He couldn't personally be bothered much if they had a romantic evening at nine instead of six. But he knew Molly. When she got home from that shift, she was typically in the mood for little else but putting on her pajamas and settling into bed.

"Hoo hoo!" Mrs. Hudson popped into the room carrying a tray and looking awfully smiley. "Lovely morning, isn't it?"

The morning was looking less and less lovely to Sherlock. Especially because his landlady walked the tray right past him and into the kitchen toward the carpenter.

"Aw thanks," the man said with a grin, taking the coffee that was offered.

"Exactly how long is all… _this,_ going to take? _"_ Sherlock asked with a gesture toward the kitchen. "Whatever this is!"

"What do you mean, whatever this is?" Molly laughed. "You took the cabinets doors off, remember? That was three weeks ago when you had no cases. And you said you were going to put in these lab ones on…but that never happened!"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Didn't it?"

Mrs. Hudson chimed in enthusiastically. "No it didn't, but not to worry! Dan will get it all sorted by the end of the day!" She gave the man a little pat on the shoulder.

"Dan," Sherlock repeated, glaring in his direction. The dark haired man stepped forward and extended his hand for a friendly shake, which Sherlock took out of obligation.

"Hi, I'm Dan," he said with an almost boyish grin.

"I heard as much," Sherlock muttered, looking unimpressed.

"Don't worry, this shouldn't take me all that long," he said glancing around the kitchen.

"Mrs. Hudson and I agreed that it was better to call in a contractor," Molly explained diplomatically to Sherlock. "So that you're not distracted from your cases."

"Ooh, and I'm so glad I did!" Mrs. Hudson said with a little giggle, stepping over into the sitting room along with them to speak more quietly. "I mean, would you just look at that…"

Sherlock frowned, looking toward the kitchen. "What? The cabinets?".

Mrs. Hudson nudged Molly and whispered. "Those are nice broad shoulders. I always did love a man's shoulders and back…so strong!"

Molly bit her lip, trying not to laugh aloud.

"You two are utterly ridiculous," Sherlock hissed as he realized what the fuss was about. He followed the direction of their gaze. "Besides, shoulder width is hardly the only indicator of physical strength." He tugged his suit jacket down smooth, standing up a touch straighter.

"It doesn't hurt to look at through! And oh heavens, what a magnificent tan! Don't you think he could be Italian?"

"Yeah, I was actually thinking the same thing," Molly agreed with a little nod.

Sherlock frowned at his wife. "Oh and you're enjoying this too are you?"

Molly giggled and kissed his nose. "A bit jealous hm?"

He instantly laughed it off. "Jealous? Just because he's got _marginally_ wider shoulders and a couple of shades more pigment in his skin? Please!"

"Did you notice he's single, Mrs. Hudson?" Molly commented. "Who knows, maybe he likes more mature women!"

"Nope," Sherlock cut in with a know-it-all smirk. "The fact that he's not wearing a ring has to do with job safety as opposed to being single. In fact, he's been married for quite some time. Over...ten years I'd say."

The older woman huffed a bit. "Well it doesn't hurt to look anyway."

"Mrs. Hudson, these muffins are really good! Thanks so much, I really appreciate it!" Dan called over with a smile.

"You're welcome, dear!" Mrs. Hudson answered, giving him a little wink. "And I'll make you a lovely sandwich for lunch if you're still here working in a couple of hours. Can't have you working on an empty stomach!"

"Oh wow, that sounds great!" He smiled cheerily and then set his coffee down to get back to work.

Mrs. Hudson looked at Sherlock again. "I'd forgotten what it's like to feed someone who will actually express their thanks and act like they enjoy eating! _That_ is an appreciative man!"

The older woman finally tore herself away from their flat to go back downstairs, though she indulged in one more glance into the kitchen on her way out, making Molly laugh a little.

Sherlock huffed a little more, but then turned his attention back to Molly. "Look, can you make sure to come home as quickly as possible tonight?"

"Well, I'll do my best."

He cradled her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I will be here waiting, and very much looking forward to seeing you." The rosy cheeked smile his words caused on her face warmed him inside. "But! For now I've got some things to do."

"Oh? A case?"

"Not exactly," he said with a soft smile. "See you later."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Holmes!" Dan called out from the kitchen with a friendly wave.

Sherlock managed a small wave and a tight smile before heading down the stairs with his coat in hand. It was time to get to work!

* * *

Sherlock came back up the stairs at 221b a few hours later, carrying bags with assorted items. He realized he may have possibly gone a little over the top, but once he started brainstorming about the possibilities, it was hard not to. And he figured he was supposed to make things special, so why not go overboard?

_No such thing as too much._

Sherlock winced a little. "Probably best you stay out of this," he muttered to himself and his memories.

He was surprised to see that there was a table saw set up on the landing outside his door, and the contractor was still there and working away in the kitchen.

"Oh hey, Mr. Holmes. So I'll be here another few hours because we ran into a little problem with the fit of these doors."

"What problem?" Sherlock demanded.

"Well the fit was a little off so I had to spend a lot of time cutting the sides a bit. And the existing hinges on the doors were pretty old and wouldn't have lasted you very long so I had to go get some new ones. I actually just got back myself!"

He sighed. "Fine…just clear out as quickly as possible please."

"Yep, no problem!"

Sherlock decided he might have to edit his dining plans for tonight. Yes, he'd originally planned three courses, but perhaps it would be best to simplify things. He'd bought cheese and mini toasts and some fruit…perhaps that and the dessert would be enough. That would eliminate the need for actual cooking. Probably for the best anyway, considering the later start than he'd originally planned.

He made his way around the kitchen (with some difficulty in light of the ongoing work) to put away all his purchases, including setting the large bag of Toby's food by his bowl. He glanced at his watch once that was done and mentally planned out the rest of his preparations for the night.

It was seven by the time the now beloved contractor was finally all packed up and heading out. Sherlock helped herd the smiley man out to his truck as quick as possible and after enduring some unsolicited comments from Mrs. Hudson about how _effortlessly_ that man lifted the table saw, he retreated to his flat to finish readying things for a special, albeit brief, night with his wife.

By the time it was almost nine, Sherlock had things completely set and was impatiently watching the clock and waiting for Molly to walk through the door. Food had been set out, (except for items needing refrigeration) the wine was breathing, a bath was being drawn, candles were lit, and soft music was playing. He was pleasantly surprised when he heard the door being unlocked a couple minutes before nine.

"Ah ha, you rushed home just like I- John, what are you doing here?" Sherlock instantly frowned at the sight of John standing in his doorway with Lestrade not far behind.

"We've been trying you for almost two hours! What's wrong with your mobile?" John demanded as he simultaneously scanned the room and made a face at the unusual setup.

"Obviously I'm busy," Sherlock hissed. "And my mobile is in my coat pocket I think."

"Well can you come with us?" Lestrade asked, stepping forward. "It's a double homicide. There doesn't seem to be any connection to the two victims, but they were found tied up together in an abandoned warehouse."

He sighed heavily. "Cause of death?"

"Both have shots to the chest, though it was with different guns."

"Oh hi!"

Molly's voice made Sherlock jump a bit.

"John, Greg, I didn't know you two were-" Molly went silent when she stepped in the flat and took in her surroundings.

"Would you both please leave!" Sherlock growled to the two men.

"Sherlock, we're on the clock here!" Greg begged desperately. "It's a big case!"

"Look, I'm sorry for interrupting…all this," John said sincerely to both Sherlock and Molly. "But this has got to be at least an eight. And Greg's right, he's running out of time here. They've gotta make a break in this case soon!"

"Yes yes, I know!"

Molly stepped forward, looking up into the frustrated eyes of her husband. She could clearly tell that he was conflicted.

"Sherlock, why don't you just go?" She smiled kindly. "It looks like you went to…well, a lot of work…but it's ok. I'll be here when you get back."

He gazed down at her, hesitating, and feeling a little defeated by the day as a whole.

"It's really ok, I promise," Molly insisted again. "Just go!"

He finally let his shoulders drop and shrugged off his dressing gown. He grabbed the suit jacket that lay across his chair and his coat and scarf. Then he came back over to Molly and kissed her soft lips before speaking quickly.

"There's a warm bath for you so go ahead and enjoy it, there's snacks and wine on the table and more in the fridge, and you may as well get some sleep because I have no idea how long this will take."

Molly returned his kiss and smiled at him. "Don't worry, I'll be here," she repeated.

Sherlock rushed out with John and Lestrade, wondering bitterly how many more ways this special night could be sabotaged by unforeseen circumstances.

* * *

Sherlock walked quietly into the flat at a bit past midnight, locking the door behind him and hanging up his coat. The candles had been blown out and the lights in the sitting room and kitchen were off, but he could see a bit of light coming from under their bedroom door down the hall. He had to admit he was glad she was still awake. He wanted to see her, but would have felt too guilty to wake her if she were already asleep.

When he came in the bedroom, Molly was sitting up with her bedside lamp on, a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other. She set both down when he walked in.

"Hi! How did it go?"

"Fine. Solved it eventually. I admit it was a solid eight." He began quickly discarding his suit and shirt, suddenly impatient to get into his comfortable warm bed beside his wife.

When he did finally climb under the covers, Molly instantly scooted over and pulled him in close for an unexpectedly passionate kiss. Sherlock was a little dazed when she pulled away but eventually opened his eyes to see her smiling at him.

"W-what was that for?" he whispered.

"Everything."

He frowned. "Everything got a bit ruined, wouldn't you say?"

Molly shrugged. "Well of course I'm sorry you had to leave, but I just keep thinking about all the effort you made. That's what really had me smiling."

"Yes, I suppose so," he admitted, still a little glumly.

"You know what was one of the best things though?"

"Hm?"

"When I saw that you'd realized we were low on Toby's food and picked some up without me even asking."

"What?" Sherlock asked through laughter.

"Well it's true!" She couldn't help laughing too. "That's the best feeling! Knowing I don't have to make an extra trip anywhere after work tomorrow!"

"Don't take this the wrong way, Molly, but sometimes you are strangely easy to please."

She gave him a playful shove before leaning in against his chest. "And my other favorite thing about today was what you said to me this morning. You know, when you told me to hurry home because you couldn't wait to see me. I kept thinking about that while I was working and it honestly brightened my day."

"Well I'm glad today was more successful than I thought it to be. I just wanted to try what my father had suggested," he admitted softly while securing his arms more tightly around her. "To show you that there are times I'm focused on you."

"I know there are," Molly whispered. "And I love you for it. I really do, and I notice when you make that sort of effort. It doesn't have to be anything grand either, so you shouldn't put any pressure on yourself."

"Apparently not!"

Molly laughed again and kissed his bare shoulder. After a moment of silence she spoke again.

"And by the way, I hope you know that no matter how much I might giggle along with Mrs. Hudson, nobody can take my breath away like you can," she said, looking up at him with smiling eyes. "You're my husband, and to me there's nobody as attractive as you are. I'd take you over a muscular carpenter any day!"

Sherlock's lips ticked up in a pleased little smile. "I'm relieved to hear you're a bit less fickle than my landlady."

"Though," she added with a little smirk. "It certainly wouldn't hurt for you to wear a tool belt now and then."

His responding pout made her giggle and she pulled him in for a series of kisses all over his face till his frown had finally been replaced with an unavoidable smile at the affectionate attention of his wife. Their laughter quickly melted away though, as Molly's kisses eventually settled against his lips, causing them to instinctively part and lock warmly with hers. They clung to each other, the mood in the room having been so easily shifted.

Molly finally pulled back enough to look at him with half lidded eyes and question him softly. "Are you, um, tired after the case?"

Sherlock shook his head slowly, giving her a purposefully unmistakable look of desire.

"And you, Molly," he asked in a whisper. "It's awfully late and you've had a long day at Bart's. Are you tired?" At this point, it was more of a playful challenge than an actual question. He knew her well enough to have already felt her answer in the way her mouth moved against his.

Molly's first response was to wordlessly move away to reach over and switched off the bedside lamp, but then she rolled back over in the darkness to snuggle up next to him again, pulling him in close against her.

"Not even a little," she whispered happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I very much appreciate a classy man in a well tailored suit, I think I'm personally more attracted by jeans, a tee shirt, and a work belt. That look will always hold first place in my heart hehe. ;) I'm with you, Hudders!! XD


	8. Days Married- 330

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably would have updated sooner than this, except that another little plot bunny came along and burrowed its way into my brain. It wouldn't go away and had to be dealt with, which means I have another sherlolly WIP now lol. But anyway, here's the latest in the lives of my married sherlolly babies. Enjoy! ;)

Sherlock reached over and grasped his mug from the bedside table, bringing it over to his lips for a slow sip of his hot coffee. He set it back down a moment later and then continued scrolling through news stories on his mobile. He glanced briefly at his wife, who lay on her stomach beside him with arms propped on the pillow. She was silently reading a medical journal.

It was almost eleven on Saturday morning and both he and Molly were quite happy to stay exactly as they were. She had only emerged from the bed briefly to make some breakfast and coffee and bring it back in with her. This sort of relaxation had quickly become a routine in their marriage. There were very few weeks when they didn't enjoy at least one very lazy morning in bed, saying very little but just…being together. It had actually become one of the things that Sherlock enjoyed most about their life together.

"Almost a year," Molly suddenly stated softly.

"Mm?"

"Us, I mean," she clarified. "We'll be married a year in a bit more than a month."

Sherlock paused and thought briefly. "Ah yes, so we will." Then he looked back at his mobile.

After another minute or so passed, Molly spoke up again.

"I was thinking, it's um…it's a big thing isn't it? Having your first anniversary."

"Yes," he agreed, still keeping his eyes on his mobile.

"So since it's our anniversary, and our first one, I thought that maybe we should, you know, do something special. Not that it has to be all that special! But just something fun for the two of us, to celebrate the day."

Oh.

_Oh._

Sherlock's expression flinched ever so slightly, though he didn't say anything. He hadn't thought of this...how had he not thought of this? Yes of course she expected some sort of celebration of their wedding anniversary, that was what married couples did! He set his phone in his lap, leaned back against his pillow, and his eyes shut as the wheels in his mind began to turn. He did vaguely hear her continue to talk…

"I just thought it would be a good time to bring it up. You know, so we can maybe start planning and keeping our schedules clear."

_Yes,_ Sherlock thought. _So much to plan!_ There were plenty of possibilities that charged through his brain and he was now looking forward to setting things in motion. She was right. It was definitely a good time to bring it up. He thanked her for bringing it to his attention so that he could use the next few weeks to make sure things were all arranged.

He would later realize that he might not have said any of it out loud.

"Sherlock? Sherlock?"

His eyes flew open and looked up to see Molly standing by the bed with a basket of laundry under her arm.

"Oh," he said in surprise. "You're up."

She let out a little chuckle. "Well yes, for about a half hour. I was asking if you had any clothes that need washing."

"Probably anything on the floor," he replied dismissively.

"Right, I'll just look around then," Molly said with a sigh as she exited the bedroom.

"I'll be out for the rest of the day," Sherlock called to her as he hopped out of the bed.

"Fine," she called back. "I'm staying home today."

She didn't question what he was doing, and he was glad. Despite the fact that she obviously knew they were going to be celebrating their anniversary somehow, there were some aspects of the event that he hoped could remain a surprise.

It would be much more fun that way.

* * *

OF COURSE I DON'T MIND! JUST TELL ME WHEN AND WHERE AND I'LL BE HAPPY TO HELP YOU OUT ANY WAY I CAN. ;)

Sherlock smiled as he quickly read the text response from Meena. This was all coming together quite nicely.

"Just a quick stop, John, it won't take long," Sherlock explained as he marched into the jewelry shop.

"It's fine, I don't mind. What are we doing here though?"

Sherlock smiled and took a small box from his pocket. John face, on the other hand, went white.

"Sorry, mate, I just had a bit of a um…ugly flashback. The sight of you with a ring box is sadly tainted for me." He shook his head a little. "No but seriously though, what are you doing here with a ring?"

"Got to have Molly's anniversary gift sized." He opened the box and showed John the delicate sapphire ring with a smaller diamond on each side.

"Wow! Sherlock, I'm impressed." John grinned in awe at his friend. "You really did well. I mean, I was thinking of bringing up your anniversary today, but clearly I don't need to tell you anything."

"Molly mentioned it last week. I've been doing lots of thinking and planning ever since. It's all getting arranged!" He smiled confidently.

The jeweler came out and greeted Sherlock warmly, briefly reminiscing about the theft case that Sherlock had so kindly solved for him. He'd forever get a discount as long as the man was alive!

"It's a lovely piece," the jeweler said as he looked carefully at the ring. "An antique I would say."

"That's right. It was my grandmother's and she gave it to my mother. My mother wanted to keep it for a child of hers, and thankfully I am the benefactor."

"And do you know what size the Missus wears?"

"Do I know what size…" Sherlock's chuckles finally subsided. "Her left ring finger is a size four. And when do you think I'd be able to pick this up?"

"I'll need to take special care, given its age. But I believe it should be ready by the end of next week."

"Excellent! Plenty of time." He reached out and shook the jeweler's hand. "A pleasure as always, Mr. Franklin. Do phone me when it's done."

Sherlock and John exited the business to hail a cab, ready to both head home for the evening. Or so John thought.

"This one is mine," Sherlock stated as a cab stopped and he opened the door.

"For God's sake, Sherlock, we're both married! Are you still worried about people talking?"

"Nope. I'm not heading home yet, I'm going in the opposite direction. You should take your own cab home." He grinned. "I've got to stop at a travel agency."

* * *

Molly smiled and laughed at Lizzie Watson as she settled down on the ground in the park and began curiously fisting bunches of grass to look at and then throw gleefully.

"So," Mary said with a nudge. "Almost a year, eh? How does it feel?"

"Good, yeah...really good," Molly answered with a small smile.

Mary raised her brows. "What? What's going on?"

"Oh, it's nothing." She attempted to smile and wave it off.

"Molly! How long have we known each other now? Honestly…come on, what is it?"

Molly sighed. "Well, it's not really a problem with us exactly. Things are…well, they're actually pretty good right now. I feel like we're settling in more comfortably than we had been some months ago. It's just that, well, I mentioned our anniversary to him a couple of weeks ago and he just sort of…" She shrugged. "I don't know, he seemed to completely block it out. I was trying to communicate and not just leave things to chance but it seems to have backfired. I got no response whatsoever, and now I feel uncomfortable bringing it up again. I thought it would be nice to celebrate somehow, but maybe he just doesn't care about that sort of thing."

"Oh, Molly, don't worry," Mary said soothingly. "I'm _sure_ he's just quietly planning something."

Truth be told, Mary was _very_ sure he was planning something, seeing as she and John had already heard about his plans. But there was absolutely no way she would be ruining and surprises!

"Well, that would be nice. I don't want to get my hopes up though. Honestly I was just hoping we could plan to set the day aside and not have anything else to do. Just be able to spend time together and relax. And I have a little surprise for him, so-"

"Oh my God!" Mary grabbed her arm with an exuberant grin.

"No no!" Molly laughed. "Not _that_ sort of little surprise, if that's what you were thinking. No baby Holmes yet, which I'm fine with for now."

"And I suppose it wouldn't serve as an anniversary surprise anyway. If Sherlock knew I was pregnant, I can't imagine he'd miss it with you!"

"Probably! Who needs a pregnancy test when you have a consulting detective?"

After Mary took a moment to pick Lizzie up and move her back closer to where they were sitting again, she placed a hand on Molly's and smiled warmly. "Truly, don't let it worry you. He may be mad, but he's also mad about you. So trust me when I say that I just _know_ he wants to make your first wedding anniversary a special one."

A smile slowly blossomed on Molly's lips. "Yeah I guess I should relax a little. I'll just try not to worry about it. As long as we get some time to ourselves that day, I think I'll be very happy."

Mary had to bite her tongue. Oh yes, they'd get some time to themselves. Plenty of time! She absolutely couldn't wait for Molly to get to enjoy what was coming her way.

* * *

"He's right in here. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you, seeing as you come bearing gifts," Anthea said, glancing at the box from the Savoy in Sherlock's hand. "I haven't let him cheat all week and I think he's ready to have me sacked, despite it being at his own instructions."

"Yes well, my brother and I have both often been skilled at denying ourselves things that we want. What we have to eventually stop fighting and give in to are the things we _need._ That being said…" He gave the lovely PA a knowing smile. "I imagine there's no danger of you getting sacked anytime soon."

Anthea gave him a little smile in return before heading back down the hallway and leaving Sherlock to fend for himself.

Sherlock knocked and went in upon his brother's call to enter. The elder Holmes sat at his grand desk, typing away on his laptop. But he stopped almost as soon as he laid eyes on his brother.

"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Mycroft asked with a tight smile, rising from his seat.

"Are you speaking to me, or the box of pastries?" Sherlock took a seat in one of the leather arm chairs and set the box on Mycroft's desk.

He sneered at Sherlock. "An unannounced visit and a gift? Clearly you want something. I do have a few important jobs that require my full attention, so perhaps you should just come out with it."

"I need the use of a private jet for a trip out of the country," Sherlock stated, folding his hands in his lap and smiling as he complied with his brother's request.

Mycroft raised a brow. "And why exactly should I do such a thing for you?"

Sherlock shrugged, unable to resist the urge to take a little dig. "You usually seem to enjoy putting me on a private jet and flying me out of the country. Why the sudden hesitance?"

"Out with it, Sherlock!"

"Fine, it's for my wedding anniversary! It's for a holiday with Molly, as a surprise for her."

Mycroft's expression shifted and softened instantly at this explanation.

"Ah," he said more softly, giving Sherlock a small smile. "Finally smoothed out all the little bumps have you? I was beginning to doubt you were up to challenge."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed at his older brother. "Marriage is a continued work in progress, never to be fully completed," he replied with a raised eyebrow. "And I would venture to say that as expected, my marriage has made quite a bit of progress since that first day almost a year ago."

Mycroft put on an air of boredom. "It would certainly appear to be so."

Yes, Sherlock and Mycroft rarely spoke of their personal and private lives, much less to each other, but the truth was that his older brother was one of the first people Sherlock had gone to after he and Molly impetuously decided to wed. Mycroft had been rather helpful; making sure paperwork happened as quickly as possible, shielding them from possible press for a time, and even acting as one of the witnesses at the ceremony.

Sherlock studied his brother a little longer. "Not bad this...having a goldfish. I find it all be of great advantage." He selected his words carefully, knowing that Mycroft would understand his meaning.

"Advantageous to you, certainly. I knew that from the very beginning. Still not sure about your blushing bride, though." Mycroft peeked in the fancy looking box. "The poor woman was foolish enough to marry you, after all."

After a moment of silence, Sherlock sighed in impatience. "So what is your answer then?"

"Yes, of course you can have the use of a private jet," he replied casually, taking a seat behind his desk again with a cream puff in hand. "Send me the details and I shall have it ready and waiting when needed."

Sherlock stood with a pleased smile. "I knew it would one day prove useful if I filed away your favorite sweets in my mind palace."

Mycroft swallowed a bite and then chuckled. "Hang the sweets. I'd have said yes anyway."

Sherlock tilted his head with a questioning frown.

"For the sake of your marriage and the woman you are so fortunate to call your wife…" Mycroft said without a hint of sarcasm. "You will find that there is little I would not do."

After a moment of stunned silence, Sherlock cleared his throat. "Thank you, Mycroft."

Mycroft nodded and then picked up his cream puff again, clearly indicating that this conversation was complete.

Sherlock took his leave and headed home, excitedly noting to himself that there was now less than two weeks till their anniversary. Most of the particulars had been taken care of now, and there was little left to do now except wait. Which would likely be the most difficult part.

Patience never was one of Sherlock Holmes' strongest virtues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so let's be honest. I think most of us do actually have to say to the man, "hey we should plan something for our anniversary." *sigh* lol! Being a bit of an overachiever though, I imagine that once prompted, Sherlock would decide to go above and beyond. He's leaving poor Molly a bit in the dark, but hey! We can't have everything go smoothly and easily with the consulting idiot lol!  
> Will try to update again next week if possible, and just fyi this next one will probably be the last for this fic. I'm sure we couldn go on and on about their happiness and struggles with married life, but I kind of planned to make it mostly a snapshot of their first year.  
> Once again, thank you, Lexie...you brilliant consulting enabler you. ;D


	9. Days Married- 365

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this has been quite a fun fic! And of course I was all too happy to have made Lexie's "married sherlolly" dreams come true lol. Glad she helped get this off the ground and inspired me with lots of fun ideas. Hope you guys enjoy this final chapter! ;)

Molly stretched slowly in her bed and rolled over to blindly slap at the alarm clock to her left, taking her time before actually opening her eyes. When she finally did open them, she was more than a little disappointed at what she did not see.

The empty space in the bed next to her left her truly confounded. She glanced over at the alarm again…yes it really was seven in the morning. When was Sherlock ever up and about this early? Fueled by her curiosity, she wasted no time in getting up to go find out what in the world would have made Sherlock get up before her.

Her confusion was only increased tenfold though, when she shuffled out to the kitchen and found that the rest of the flat was empty! No Sherlock to be found. His coat and shoes were gone too, so he couldn't have just popped downstairs to Mrs. Hudson's for some reason.

Molly started the coffee pot going but then composed a text to her absentee husband…today of all days!

MORNING…WHERE ARE YOU? YOU'RE NEVER GONE THIS EARLY! –MH

YES WELL, BUSY DAY! LOTS TO DO, SO BEST TO GET STARTED EARLY. –SH

Molly frowned to herself.

OH OK. WELL I HOPE THINGS GO WELL. –MH

She paused for a moment after sending that one before adding another message.

AND HAPPY ANNIVERSARY! –MH

She wondered if this might provide a necessary reminder for him. Perhaps he'd forgotten…again. And besides, she just wanted to say it anyway. It was a few minutes later when her phone finally buzzed in response.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, DARLING. ;) –SH

Molly raised her brows. A winking face, hm? Well, that was unusual. She shrugged, supposing that a cute emoji face might just be her thrilling anniversary surprise.

She went about her typical morning routine, including having a surprisingly difficult time locating an outfit to wear. It was Tuesday, which meant she'd be low on clean clothes the day before laundry day, but she didn't think it was this bad! She managed to scrape together an outfit which made her glad for the fact that she'd be wearing a lab coat over it, thus covering the stains that she'd never been able to get out of this blouse.

After finally catching a cab and heading toward the hospital, Molly sent off a text to her coworker explaining that she'd be just a couple minutes late but not to worry since she was on her way. As if her morning hadn't been odd enough already, she got a very strange reply.

SORRY, MOLLY, I'M NOT SURE WHAT YOU MEAN? THE SHIFT IS COVERED ALREADY AND YOU'RE NOT ON THE SCHEDULE. I ACTUALLY THOUGHT YOU'D HAVE LEFT ALREADY…ANYWAY, HAVE A NICE TIME AND TAKE LOTS OF PICTURES! :)

Molly frowned at her mobile screen. Have a nice time? What in the world was she talking about? Just as she was getting ready to phone her supervisor and ask what the mix up was all about, the cab stopped to avoid a car parked in the street and blocking its way. Imagine Molly's shock when she saw Sherlock get out of the car and walk over to the cab with a smile.

"Sherlock, what are you doing here?" Despite how strange this was, she couldn't help but smile at the unexpected sight of her husband as she got out of the cab to meet him.

"Hello, Molly! I had some last minute things to take care of earlier this morning, but I also couldn't let you get all the way to work. A last minute road block was a necessity in this case."

"Yes, but why-"

"I hope this won't be one of those occasions when you feel that I'm overstepping my boundaries in your professional life when I tell you that starting today…you're officially on holiday for a week."

Molly's jaw dropped.

Sherlock swallowed hard shifted nervously on his feet. "Not good?"

Slowly, Molly's lips began to lift, naturally triggering relief in the eyes of her husband. "Are we…are we going somewhere?" she asked, the thrill now building inside her.

He smiled proudly. "We are indeed. Though, I would rather not spoil the surprise right here in the middle of the street."

"Oh my God!" Molly let out a little squeal. "Really? You mean it?"

He smiled again in response and shoved some money at the cab driver, telling him to be on his way.

"Come, Molly…we have a plane to catch!"

Molly could barely walk over to the car without skipping. Though, there was one thing that was now bothering her.

"Oh no, I wish I'd got to pick some different clothes! This has got to be the worst outfit I own! And I don't even know what sort of clothes I should bring for…wherever we're going."

"Oh not to worry," Sherlock assured her as they got in the car and closed the door. "Meena took care of that."

"Meena?"

"Mm. I requested her help a couple of weeks ago, letting her know that I'd need her expertise in packing your luggage for a week away in…well, you'll find out."

"Isn't it nice that you two are such good mates now?" Molly said teasingly.

"All due to the fact that she's finally seen the light and come to accept the fact that there's no better man for you than me." He grinned.

"Oh I'm so excited!" Molly suddenly exclaimed as the car started driving. She leaned over to grab him and began peppering his face with kisses, including some enthusiastic ones on his lips.

"W-we haven't even got our holiday started yet!" Sherlock said between laughter and kisses. "Why are you already having this much fun?!"

"Because…" Molly said, grasping his face and smiling at him. "I have the best husband in the world."

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped at the air strip, a jet waiting for its two passengers. Molly got out of the car with her jaw on the ground again.

"Is that a private jet?!" she questioned in disbelief. "I've only ever flown on a regular passenger airline…and in coach!"

Sherlock chuckled pleasantly as he grabbed their bags from the boot of the car. "Trust me when I say that the thrill of one of my brother's private jets can quickly lose its appeal. Though, flying with you will be vastly superior to my other experiences."

As they boarded, Molly couldn't help but let out a little gasp at her surroundings. This was definitely about to be the best traveling experience she'd ever had!

"Hello, miss," a friendly flight attendant said, holding out a tray. "Some champagne?"

"Might as well," she said, taking a flute and thanking the young man.

"Is everything set for take-off?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, sir. We should be leaving in just a few minutes. Why don't you both have a seat and make yourselves comfortable?"

Sherlock and Molly did just that, settling into two of the leather seats across from each other and buckling in for takeoff. Molly looked about ready to jump out of her skin with the thrill of the whole experience.

"So," she finally said, breaking the silence. "Where are we going?"

She earned one of Sherlock's lovable little half smiles as he perched his fingers against his lips. "I think perhaps we should wait till we're in the air, don't you? More fun that way."

"I wish I had your abilities," she said with a laugh. "Maybe I would have deduced it by now!"

"An excellent reason to leave the planning of surprises to me."

Much to Molly's relief, a few minutes later they did indeed take off, beginning to sail smoothly through the air. Sherlock unbuckled and made his way over to a cupboard to snag a box of biscuits.

"Ah, I knew there would something good aboard. Mycroft wouldn't think of traveling without a treat or two!"

Molly unbuckled too and leaned forward, her chin perched on her hands as she smiled at her husband. "Ok, no more stalling…you'd better tell me now."

Brushing some crumbs off his lips and fingers, he smiled and nodded. "Alright, I suppose I've made you wait long enough, haven't I?" He leaned forward as well and reached out to take her hands in his, speaking softly. "Do you remember telling me about when you graduated from medical school?"

Molly frowned. "Um, not really. I mean, maybe I did, but it must have been so long ago. I probably didn't even think you were listening."

"I _always_ listened," he murmured before drawing a breath and continuing on. "You told me of a holiday you and your father had hoped to go on. But you mentioned that life promptly got in the way. The cost was a bit out of the question, and you were far busier after school than you expected to be…so it sadly fell by the wayside."

She let out a little gasp. "Oh my God…you don't mean-"

Sherlock grinned. "Do you remember why you told me of that holiday? I had rudely questioned why you'd want to own such a pompous and ungrateful creature as a cat for a pet. That was your answer. You told me all about how fascinating large cats were in the wild and how they were by far the most majestic creatures you'd ever seen. Their strength and grace, coupled with their more amusing and entertaining antics made them practically perfect in your eyes. You laughed a little, explaining that if you weren't able to experience the wonder of those wild creatures in person, at least you could live with a miniature version."

Molly's eyes were already filling with some tears. "Sherlock," she whispered with a shaky voice. "Are we- are we going to a wild cat sanctuary?"

He nodded, looking more than pleased. "Yes, Molly. We are."

Molly promptly got up from her seat and sat herself down instead on her husband's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burning her face in his shoulder. She cried a little and kissed any skin she could reach and just clung to him for a long time, wondering if he would ever cease to amaze her. She finally pulled away to give him a watery smile.

"God, I love you."

"Will you love me even more if I tell you there's another surprise?" he asked with a little twinkle in his eyes.

"I might," she said with a laugh. "Though at this point, the shock of anything more might just do me in!"

He smiled a little, but then looked down, his expression becoming more serious. "This has been…quite a year, hasn't it?"

She nodded, watching him patiently.

"I confess I had no idea what I was getting into when I signed my name on this particular dotted line and said 'I do.' There are many things I have endured in my life; many dangers and challenges, both physical and mental. I would not say that this has been worst. But I would certainly say that it has been equally as daunting as some of the other things I've faced. This marriage has brought with it frustration, confusion, irritation, anger, guilt, fear. I wondered sometimes if I was right before when I said I wouldn't make another vow…" He paused and looked at the wide eyed expression of his wife, his own face suddenly freezing in concern. "Sorry…timing? Perhaps this isn't the sort of speech a husband is supposed to give after being married a whole year."

Molly's face softened and she gave him a somewhat amused smile. "It's you and I, Sherlock. We don't exactly follow the rules, do we? And besides, I think you've about summed up some of the same feelings I've experienced this past year."

He looked a little relieved. "Ah, good." He cleared his throat. "Though, I did have a bit more to say. It wasn't _all_ vaguely insulting! There were things I enjoyed as well."

"Yeah, me too."

"Strangely enough, upon reflection, I found that the things I treasure the most were rather small. For instance…you talk in your sleep."

Molly pulled back, her mouth dropping open in mild outrage and she slapped his arm playfully. "I do _not_!"

"Which naturally I especially enjoy when you're referring to me," he said with a smirk, taking her hand and holding it against his chest. "You always hum something softly while making tea. You make these intensely thoughtful little expressions while reading to yourself. You know exactly when to give me needed space and quiet. And despite the aggravation it caused, I do so love that you chose to take my name…which I enjoy using."

Molly blushed and smiled gently.

"And of course," he added softly, reaching up to touch her face. "Your unwavering and awe-inspiring faith and trust in me."

She had to swallow a little lump in her throat at that point, her tears welling once again, which she attempted to sniff away. "Do I um, get to tell you some of the little things that I love?"

"Oh, I think we have a few hours left for that, yes."

Molly gave him another playful shove before drawing a breath and only having to think for a moment before beginning. "Well, there's the way you get impatient to see me sometimes. Granted, especially when you're bored, but it's endearing nonetheless. And then, I notice that you regularly talk to Toby now as if you're actually having a conversation and he can understand you. For all your rudeness and disregard for people's feelings, you really are chivalrous. And goodness knows I hate to admit it, but...I've really fallen in love with that sock index."

"Did I not tell you that you would?" he pronounced triumphantly.

After stilling her laughter, she went on. "And I just love the way that when you're near me, either at home or at Bart's or anywhere else, you just find ways to touch me. Just little ways, but I always notice." She almost stopped but then spoke again before he could jump in. "Oh! And of course, I too love my full name…especially to hear you say it."

Molly leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, which was gentle but packed deliciously full of emotion. When she pulled away and smiled, Sherlock reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"I'm fully aware that we charged ahead in the beginning of all this. And despite the fact that I wouldn't change the decision we made a year ago, I also feel as if there are things you missed." He fiddled a little with the velvety box before handing it to her. "This is one of those things."

Molly took the box with her heart in her throat, feeling as if she really were being proposed to, despite that moment being long since passed. She felt almost the same welling emotion. And of course her breath caught the second she opened the box with a little creak.

"It was my maternal grandmother's. I believe Mummy had almost given up hope of passing it along till now. And thankfully I beat Mycroft to it."

Sherlock took the box again and removed the ring, taking her left hand and adding it to its place along with Molly's simple wedding band.

"Sherlock, it's so…it's just perfect," she murmured while glancing at her hand.

"I should have given it to you a year ago. I know that now. And I also know that my proposal itself left a bit to be desired," he admitted with a little laugh in his eyes.

Molly smiled as well, not about to argue with that.

"I realize you don't require anything grand or theatrical, but on that day I should have…" He paused, pressing his lips together for a moment. "I should have told you how much I loved you. And I should have explained how empty my life would be without you in it. And that in addition to the fact that you deserve to be happy, I wanted nothing more than to have a part in the making of that happiness."

Molly sniffed some more tears away. "I am happy," she confirmed with a nod, caressing his face. "I'm happy with you. And regardless of all the trials and frustrations of the past year, and what could come in the future, I'd do it all again…romantic proposal or not." She touched her forehead to his.

Sherlock inhaled and exhaled deeply, feeling the warmth of her face so close to his. This all couldn't have gone much more perfectly if he tried…though, he knew that perfection was hardly the answer in all of this.

As Sherlock embraced his beloved wife while flying through the air to celebrate their first year of marriage, he reminded himself of the fact that this- his life- was the sort of case that would never be solved. And that was ok. Despite the sprinkling of sublimely perfect moments like this one, life itself wasn't perfect. Likely they'd encounter plenty of instances in the future that would make them angry, make them cry, confuse them, and hurt them to the point of breaking. Which was all the more reason to build a marriage strong enough to withstand those unexpected _winds._ And all the more reason to celebrate and hold on to moments like this one.

Sherlock slid his arms further around Molly, resting his head in the crook of her neck…and holding on just a little tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! And thanks again to Lexie for beta reading as well as prompting the fic in general. And now I shall work on "For Science" some more hehe! See you guys over on that fic next time around. ;D  
> **12/10 EDIT- a lovely reader has alerted me to the fact that I left out something important in this chapter (OOPS lol) which I had alluded to in ch 8...so there will be a short epilogue chapter coming!**


	10. Days Married- 1825

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I feel a little silly because I big time forgot to include something in ch 9. A reader wrote me a nice comment and then asked what Molly's surprise for Sherlock was. LOL...yeah I didn't even remember cover that. And I did have something planned too! So anyway, this made it necessary for an epilogue. Which I had actually planned on doing originally, but then dropped the idea. But it's back now lol! Hope you guys enjoy it. ;)

“Oh isn’t it lovely?” Mrs. Hudson said dreamily as she took her flute of champagne. “Five years! That really is something to be proud of! By the time I’d been married to Mr. Hudson that long, I’d found out about all the drugs.” She dropped her voice softer before taking a sip.

“Yes, thank you for the perspective,” Sherlock said with a smirk. “I believe we are all more than aware that you’re not the most stellar example for a well chosen and successful marriage.”

His landlady gave him a little shove before making her way over to sit with Lizzie Watson on the couch and look at one of her books.

Mary plopped down beside Sherlock, giving his arm a squeeze. “Seriously, well done, you.I’m really proud of you, trying so hard to be the husband Molly deserves.”

“I can very confidently say now that despite the challenge, it’s worth the effort,” he said with a wink at his wife across the room. She was currently chatting animatedly with John Watson, though she spared him a smile.

"Sherlock," Molly called over to him. "Would you mind getting some honey for my tea?”

“With pleasure,” he responded quite genuinely, always proud to present that golden jar for anyone to use.

This was the second year he’d attempted beekeeping, and things had gone rather well. He didn’t mind admitting that the serenity of the activity was a welcome respite from the constant flurry of activity in the city. And naturally he credited his wife, seeing as it was due to her that they’d begun this new venture in their life. He smiled to himself as he remembered that day, exactly four years before, when she’d first told him of her brilliant surprise…

_“Sherlock?” Molly whispered softly, making him lift his head from their embrace to look at her again._

_“Hm?”_

_“You’ve absolutely swept me away today, with this trip and the ring and everything,” she said, pausing to bite her lip before going on. “But I have a little something to surprise you with as well.”_

_Sherlock’s brow shot up. “Do you?”_

_She nodded and smiled, taking her bag from the floor to produce a folded paper. Sherlock took it, slowly unfolding it with mounting curiosity. After scanning the page for a second, he looked back at her._

_“This is a real estate listing.”_

_“Yeah it is,” she confirmed. “It’s a cottage in Sussex Downs. And I may have already had a word with the seller.” She gestured to the page again for him to look._

_“For sale by owner,” Sherlock muttered, reading the words on the listing. Within the same second, he made some mental calculations and smiled at Molly a little humorously. “Molly, is this who I think it is?”_

_She nodded, smiling proudly. “I ran into Janine a couple of weeks ago by chance, and she told me all about how she’s realized how much she’s not cut out for life in the country and thought that this was the best time to sell. I didn’t make any offer!” she hurried to clarify. “But I told her I thought we’d be interested…and she said she’d love to sell it to us.”_

_Sherlock stared silently at her for a moment, which prompted Molly to go on talking, clearly nervous now about his reaction to the idea._

_“It’s just, well, I know that we both wouldn’t want to be tied to London exclusively forever. I could just imagine it being a nice quiet little place to get away whenever we’d like. For an occasional couple of days, or for a month…whatever we want! It’s got space and solitude and a little land. And bees, Sherlock! There’s bees! I know how you’d love that as a little hobby. Janine said she never got around to getting rid of them, and when I heard that I just knew this could be right for us. I think between what we have together we could easily have enough for a down payment.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, I just felt like it might be the right time. And I wanted you to know that if we want it-“_

_Sherlock’s lips collided with hers, warm and enthusiastic. Molly clung to him in joyful reciprocation. After a moment of pleasant kisses, Sherlock finally pulled back and smiled at his wife._

_“How is it that you know me so very well, Molly Holmes?” he whispered._

_Molly blushed and smiled. “You’re not the only one who always listens.”_

_Sherlock caressed her cheek. “You always do, don’t you? I suppose I have quite a lot to be grateful for.”_

_“Well…” She gave him a cheeky little smirk. “It’s a nice long holiday week, so I look forward to being shown lots of that gratitude,” she said, adding another kiss to his lips._

_“Oh, Mrs. Holmes, you have no idea,” he murmured low against her lips…_

“Here you go, darling,” Sherlock said, handing the honey to his wife with a little wink.

“It was great of you two to invite all of us,” Greg commented with a grin.

“Don’t thank me,” Sherlock stated flatly, though he graciously offered the man some more bubbly. “It was Molly who insisted that we should include some friends in this year’s celebration instead of hiding away peacefully on our own. Something about multiples of five being larger accomplishments or something.”

“We did compromise though!” Molly added, she and John coming over to join the rest of them. “When you lot all head back to London on Sunday, we’ll stay here a few more days.”

“I think that’s nice,” Mary commented. “It’s always good to spend a little quiet time together.”

“Mummy! Mummy! Can I have a drink? Please?” Lizzie asked from the couch..

Mary sighed. “See? We all need our quiet adult time.” She went to the kitchen for some water.

“So is this the only excitement for you two at the five year mark?” John asked. “No other trips or anything planned?”

Sherlock and Molly exchanged a brief look.

“This’ll be it for this year, for travel I mean. We were happy to just get away for a week,” she said with a smile. “Though…we are getting a gift.”

“Ooh really?” Mrs. Hudson exclaimed with a happy little clap of her hands. “What is it?”

Molly glanced at Sherlock, prompting him to take over.

“Thankfully we were able to decide on one thing that would suit both of us equally this time,” Sherlock explained. “Though, admittedly, Molly is doing most of the work to get it here. It’ll be a while yet, but we’re very much looking forward to when it does arrive.”

“And exactly…when would that be?” Mary asked as she emerged from the kitchen, the corner of her lips lifting and her eyes brightening as the rest of the room held their collective breath.

Sherlock gave his wife a warm smile and took her little hand before turning back to their guests and answering.

“Approximately seven more months.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost not sorry I goofed, because I kind of like having this addition to the fic. I mean, I know the whole baby thing is the cliche happy ending thing, but I don't care it still makes me smile. :)  
> Alrighty, now it's FOR REAL done and I will be actually moving back to For Science lol. (And maybe also binge watching that 45 seconds of emotion destroying trailer that we just got yesterday because I have no ability to control myself and I'm already WAAAY too sucked in. Yep. :/)


End file.
